World of Warcraft - The Templar Knights
by ViMiLu
Summary: Rayne Templar and his lowly band of misfit knights have arrived on the bone-chilling continent of Northrend to make a name for themselves but fell short on every turn. Lorelei Starstrider is a young elf seeking glory and adventure from her sheltered life. A chance encounter brings these two unlikely heroes from opposing factions together and forever changes their world.
1. Prologue

World of Warcraft - The Templar Knights

Book 1

By ViMiLu

 **Prologue:**

Freezing mist rose into spirals alongside the chilling seat of the Frozen Throne. The former proud paladin and crowned Prince of Lordaeron Arthas Menethil stared out towards the wastes of Northrend. A puff of white smoke oozed from his breath as he sighed. Clutched in his hand, the cursed runeblade known as Frostmourne hisses and shines with a delicate blue light. The steel plates wrapped against his skin houses the trapped soul of the former shaman Ner'Zhul who once dared to challenge those more powerful than himself. Greed had gotten the better of both of them. Everything they have fought for, everything they have ever known and loved has been tossed aside. Their sacrifice has created one of the most fearsome villains Azeroth has ever known. There is no paladin. There is no shaman. Only the Lich King remains.

Heavy armored plates clanged and cracked against one another as he stood up. The Lich King descended from his throne. His tough hide boots slapped against the ice carved steps driving long and deep cracks as he passed. The chilling air seeped into the freshly made fractures sealing and repairing them nearly instantaneously. Frostmourne dragged across the icy surface. Disgusting screeches echoed into the highest peaks of Northrend. The Lich King continued his steadied approach towards the center of the encircled peak.

A radiant beam drew his eyes downward. This was no ordinary glow emanating from his blade. Frostmourne was trying to tell him something. It yearned to speak even though its only purpose was to feed and harvest souls. The weapon had served him well. First it corrupted the paladin and gave him a body to wield the awesome power cultivated in the shaman bound armor. Now, it has become the tool that will allow him to rule over all of Azeroth. The only thing he needed now was patience. Everything is as it should be, and yet, the runeblade continued to bark at him. The Lich King lifted Frostmourne and guided the tip slowly towards his empty hand. Plumes of smoke and light danced around his palm as the color began to radiate and grow brighter with every passing moment.

Light exploded into a well of energy high into the blackened sky. Spirits began to pour out through the blade and float about in chaotic patterns swarming the presence of the Lich King. Their wails cried out into the core of his hideous body. The spirits soon collected together to form the visage of a single being. Though his body was no longer his own, the memory of Arthas still remained within the tight confines of the Helm of Damnation. Standing before him, bathing in the wretched glowing light emanating from his blade was the ancient visage of the former King of Lordaeron.

The Lich King stared deep into the soul of the creature while taking slow and calculated breaths. The old man was no worse for wear. He still bore that hideous crown of his that fell to the ground ever so swiftly upon his demise; much like his kingdom soon afterwards.

"You look troubled my son," the deep voice of Teranas spoke.

His words echoed into the air nearly turning into ice against the cold mountain breeze.

"Could it be that you can sense what I have felt? With your command over all that is death, you don't even notice it slipping around your own throat."

Though his words were harsh, the Lich King did not falter in stance nor composure. He continued to look down upon the ghost with the same look of mild interest and contempt.

"The light is growing. It is beginning to cascade these lands with its warmth and strength. Though you hide in your castle surrounded by death and darkness, it will slowly begin seeping through the cracks of this hideous dungeon. They will be coming for you, my son. They will not as easily succumbed to the will of the scourge as you once did."

The words of the former king erupted in power with every breath spoken. His former son continued to stand unwavering and unmoved by any of it.

"Soon, they will be at your gates. An alliance and horde of heroes are coming for you. The light will prevail. It does not waver in the face of evil nor will it ever quit in its pursuit of justice."

With one final plea, the former King of Lordaeron finished his enthralling speech.

"Where you have fallen, the light will select a new champion. The time of judgment is coming my son. Are you prepared to face the consequences of your betrayal?"

A heavy breath exited the mighty frame of the Lich King. He quickly turned back towards his throne. The heavy whip of his cloak waved over the misty appearance of Teranas and with one quick swipe, dissipated him into countless ashes of light and removed from existence.

The Frozen Throne was instantly hushed into a dull silence. From beneath the Helm of Damnation, a few quick breaths exited in a puff of icy mist. The cool air of the highest peak in Northrend was soon filled with a haunting yet unfamiliar sound. For the first time in ages, the Lich King actually started to laugh.


	2. Chapter 1

_Sindragosa's Fall_

 _Icecrown_

"Get the engines running Rayne!" Shouted the boisterous gnome as he charged full speed ahead down the damp and icy tunnel.

The tight flaps of his black leather armor silently squeaked with every rapid movement towards the small flicker of light that guided him toward freedom. His spikey black hair which once represented the stern peaks of Dun Murough now closely resembled the spires of Blades Edge Mountains as he raced down towards his companion. Clutched tightly in his tiny grip was a long wooden rod crudely carved but carrying the proud red flag brandishing the black symbol representing the faction known as the Horde.

"Hold on!" Shouted a voice from afar. "The clutch is stuck. I can't get it started."

"Damnit all," another voice grunted. "Nothing ever goes our way, does it Weasel?"

The loud clanks of his plate armor echoed violently down throughout the hall as he chased the gnome with both fervor and desperation. Each stomp of his mighty boots sent waves of strength rippling through his very core. The mass of his handcrafted and mighty titansteel-forged mace that bore the horns and faces of multiple rams swung from side to side as he ran at full speed.

"Almost there…" Gasped the gnome as he pushed his tiny legs faster and faster towards the ever growing light.

His eyes widened. The radiant gift of freedom soon approached. Just feeling the warm glow of the sun cascading over this hellish snowy landscape nearly lifted his small heart out of his tightly armored chest.

"Not so fast!" Another voice called out.

The air was violently split apart above the perfectly formed spikey locks that Weasel spent hours grooming. The gnome pressed his knees forward and slid underneath the legs of his large, furry and ambushing adversary as he waded through the nearly skull-splitting attack. Weasel immediately launched himself to his feet and continued running. A large grin pressed upon his cheeks as the end of the tunnel soon approached. The only thing that could stop him now was the sudden violent clash of metal echoing in road once traveled.

"Marcus!" The tiny creature shouted while turning his head.

His companion was locked in a stalemate. The giant broadsword of his similarly armored but much furrier adversary pressed deep into his own weapon as they struggled to maintain a dominant stance.

"What are you doing?!" The warrior cried out. "Keep running you pint-sized moron!"

"Hey!" Weasel called back in a growing sense of frustration.

He had made a crucial error. Even after only diverting his attention for a split second it was more than enough to overlook the small branch poking out of the ground at the base of the tunnel's entrance. The gnome slid face first and enjoyed a full course menu of mud, twigs, rocks, and snow before grinding to a dull halt.

The freshly caked mounds of earth were pugnaciously ejected from his mouth in quick haste as Weasel regained his bearings. Thankfully, his instincts were still well in tact as the flag he had tried so desperately to retrieve was still firmly clutched in his vice-like grip.

As the gnome looked up, a large shadow loomed over him. The golden rays of the sun above painted a silhouette of this mighty creature. Gleaming plates of silver with shining gold trim outlined the brunt of his armor. A golden cloak sat softly along his back and shined as if the fabric were hand crafted by the Titans themselves. Long and radiant locks of blonde hair were perfectly trimmed and styled as if each individual strand were personally cared for and attended to. A portion if it laid upon his shoulders and hung softly across his chest while the other was tied up into a ponytail wrapped with a small silk cloth. Resting gently on his forehead were a pair of finely crafted gnomish mechanized goggles with a strong yellow light glowing from the lenses.

Weasel slowly lifted himself off the ground in awe of this sight as more details soon became clear. The majestic being sat upon a mighty saddle of fine Gnomish engineering. The motorcycle revved and howled mightily into the air as the engines worked at their full capacity. A large steel shield adorned with a deep crimson cross expertly crafted into the shining silver frame. Before Weasel could utter a word, a gauntlet slowly presented itself before him followed by a gleaming white smile. This noble paladin was not only his savoir at this very moment but also right on time.

"Well done my friend," the soothing voice of his companion washed over him like a vial of rejuvenating nectar. "Now, let's get you out of here."

"Rayne…?"

The bewildered gnome smiled back at him. Raymond Nigel Templar, or Rayne as he preferred to be called was his beloved friend and guild master and at this point, there was no one else he would have been happier to see.

"You've come to save -"

An explosion of dirt and snow erupted between them. The breadth of the oncoming attacks snapped both of them into reality. A volley of arrows and flame enhanced magic headed right at them at an alarming speed.

The paladin desperately coughed as plumes of dust and debris filled his lungs. The entire plan was shot in an instant. They completely forgot where they were and paid the price for it. It was time to move to _Plan B_.

"Gah!" Screamed Weasel while narrowly avoiding another wave of attacks slamming into the surrounding dirt and snow. "What are you waiting for?! Take it!" He pleaded while shoving the flag into the awaiting hand of his companion.

"Roger!" Rayne shouted.

He shoved the stick between a pair of exhaust pipes and secured it tightly. The paladin gripped the handles of the bike and took one deep breath. This brief moment of mediation allowed him the vital time he needed to focus on the task at hand.

 _It's okay. You can do this. Just like we practiced._

Slowly, the paladin inched his wrists forward sending signals to the mechanical steed that he was ready to move. The techno-beast roared with a mighty howl as the wheels spun with an unfathomable velocity.

"Whoa!" The paladin shouted.

His tonsils nearly started swimming in his stomach as the motorcycle blasted forward at speeds that only rockets once knew. Rayne gripped the handles tightly as if holding on to the only shred of life he had left. Wind blasted across his entire core. In all of the ongoing confusion and onslaught, he had forgotten to affix his goggles in the proper position. The paladin squinted as he raced through the vast snowy field trying to protect his eyes from every molecule of air that threatened to blind him if he let up for even a moment.

The bike shook violently as it raced ahead. Every nut and bolt clung to each other with unresolved determination. Even the tiniest little bump could seemingly dismantle the vehicle down to the last washer.

A torrent of arrows flew at the paladin. His velocity was so intense he didn't even hear them whiz by until they had already passed. Rayne clenched his teeth as mustered the strength he needs to turn the bike due north towards their home base of operations. Like the one he once parked in front of awaiting this precious cargo, it was carved within the hollowed mass of a small mountain. All he needed to do was deliver this one item to his comrades awaiting within and they would achieve victory. Unfortunately for the paladin, he was never that lucky.

Black smoke exploded from the exhaust trailing behind the bike like an extinguished match. The paladin continued to hold as he smashed his wrists forward hoping to force one last burst of momentum from within the failing vehicle's frame.

 _Come on...! Come on!_ Rayne cursed to himself.

The motorcycle began to sputter and cough as is ground down a slow halt. Pipes, screws, and other essential parts began littering the area behind were the bike once crossed. They still radiated enough heat to melt the surrounding snow around them and expose the gentle green vegetation that sat underneath the soft white blanket of ice.

Rayne continued to hold on begging the light to allow the remaining velocity to carry him to the finish line. He was so focused on the path to victory, he didn't even notice the giant rock heading right for him.

The bike erupted as metal slammed against the might of the stagnant earth. Rayne was instantly ejected from his seat carrying the handlebars he so desperately clung to with him. He quickly landed flat on his back. The few inches of snow could lighten the blow as his massive frame crashed to the ground with a disgusting thud. He let out a violent cough in response as the air that was once safely resting within his lungs was forcibly evicted without a single warning. Tiny broken pieces of his mechanical steed soon began to rain down upon him and the surrounding area. The last piece to fall was that which he so closely desired. Standing no fewer than ten feet away was the red and black flag that was vital to the success of this mission.

The paladin rolled over to his chest. He grunted as he used his arms to drag himself forward. The excruciating pain of his unplanned landing was still resonating throughout his core. Though he could thankfully still feel his legs, they were unable to respond to any direct commands without sending lightning bolts of pain shooting through the freshly damaged nerves.

Inch by inch, his prize drew closer with every passing breath. The sounds of battle across the entire field had dulled to a soft ringing sound.

Pain exploded as Rayne's spine screamed for attention. His mouth soon followed with a gut-wrenching howl that singed the delicate frames of his vocal cords. The firmly placed boot of a large and powerful adversary proved to be the direct cause of this newly found source of agony. Amongst his fevered desperation, he hadn't even noticed the orc approaching him.

A sharp dual-bladed axe dropped against the paladin's neck. Had it not been for the heightened collar added to his chest plate, blood would have surely painted this snowy landscape.

"Going somewhere kid?" The orc laughed.

Rayne ignored the taunt and continued to reach forward. Even when he saw more members of the Horde faction approaching it did not weaken his resolve in the slightest. The paladin urged every fiber of his being to move despite the growing spike of constant torment plaguing his body. He slowly waded through the soft patches of velvet snow towards his desired prize. As he continued, he could hear the orc towering over him begin to laugh.

"Look at him," the deep groaning voice of the green-skinned warrior announced. "He still thinks they've got a shot at this."

A few of the other horde members shared in his laughter. A pair of trolls, a tauren, and even a member of the Foresaken joined in on the ridicule. They seized the flag with their beloved faction symbol embedded in the glorious red cloth and instantly put an end to Rayne's last remaining flicker of hope.

"Take a look blondie," the undead mercenary hissed while looking down upon their fallen foe. "It's over."

He pointed their newly acquired token into the distance where another one of their members were riding proudly carrying the beloved symbol of the Alliance on a blue and gold stitched flag.

Rayne cringed at the sight. His eyes fought back tears as he desperately tried to drive away any thoughts of failure that began drowning his mind. With a defeated sigh, the paladin relaxed his muscles and ended the short defiance.

"What's the matter boy?" The orc playfully asked while removing his heavy boot from the plate armored backside of the fallen member of the Alliance.

Using the same foot, he slammed it into Rayne's ribs and rolled the paladin flat on his back while roaring in anguish.

"Don't you have any more fight left in ya?"

The orc drove the bottom of his flat-handled axe into the chest plate of his defeated foe's midsection. Rayne wailed once more as more delicious oxygen was forced out of his stomach in the cruelest of fashions.

"So what we gonna do wit' dis one?" Another voice taunted.

The paladin couldn't tell who exactly said it as he continued to writhe in this new pool of pain he was swimming in but he was sure based on that accent, it was one of those trolls. The others continued to laugh as the multitudes of potential possibilities must have populated and started to battle amongst each other for the most heinous of tortures.

"Calm down guys," the brutish orc ordered. "We've still got plenty of – "

The foreboding words of the group's leader were instantly silenced by the rhythmic blaring of a loud horn. A raspy voice wined above the loud drone in a commanding tone.

"That's it boys and girls. This round of the Conquest of Sindragosa's Fall is over. And your winners are," he began as if subtly pausing for dramatic effect even though both sides clearly knew who were the victors. "The Horde have taken it. Congratulations! Please see Zotex to claim your prize for participation."

The surrounding laughter of the horde quickly diminished. Relief swelled over Rayne as the long hilt of the heavy axe was removed from his stomach. The resounding coughs sounded distressing but they never felt so good.

"You got lucky this time kid," the orc proclaimed. "You and your guildies should rethink your priorities. Not everyone gets to be a champion," he stated while walking out of sight.

The cool icy touch of wind grazed the cheeks of the young paladin. Rayne continued to stare up at the sun. It bathed him it is warm glow but unfortunately did nothing to raise his temperature. Though the reach of the bright star was vast, the unforgiving crisp of this terrible continent made it feel like it was in another universe entirely.

Though the wounds still stung, they would heal in time. It was the growing sense of nagging clawing away at his heart that irritated him the most. This wasn't the first time Rayne and his companions and simultaneously tasted such a humiliating defeat nor would it probably be the last. This wasn't a matter of pride; far from it to be honest. The young paladin did not care about his own name and title as much as he did the well-being of his companions. Failure is a necessity to achieve growth. He just did not like the taste of it when other people relied on him so heavily. They put their faith in his leadership time and time again and the only thing they have to show for it was another bitter defeat.

Rayne closed his eyes and allowed the frigid landscape to consume him. At least the cold would expedite the healing of the leftover pain but nothing hurt worse than having to face those guys yet again and apologize for another paltry performance.

"Yo, boss?" A squeaky voice called from above.

The paladin didn't even hear the shifting of the snow as his two companions stood over and looked down upon his slightly battered frame. Rayne slowly opened his eyes to verify the presence of both Weasel and Marcus before shutting them tight and lazily throwing his head to the side and embracing the soft snow as an icy pillow.

"Just another five minutes," Rayne whispered in a vain attempt at both humor and defer the conversation he knew was not too far away.

"As much as I'd love to join you and lay my lazy ass right next to yours," Marcus quipped, "We really need to go. The cleanup crew are already on site."

"Besides, Gizex said he needed to speak with you before we left," chimed the gnomish rogue. "And you know how finicky those pointy-eared copper-pinchers can be when it comes to wasting their time."

A soft groan pressed its way through the paladin's sealed lips. His rebelliousness notwithstanding, they all definitely had some place else to be. The foul memories of this place would have to be revisited on another day.

Rayne opened his eyes and slowly picked himself off of the ground. Small traces of snow still stuck to the indentations and trim of his armor like pure white dust. He took a deep breath and nodded in compliance. Looking each of them in the eye proved a bit more challenging than initially anticipated but by the expressions they carried, it made it a bit easier.

"Sorry again guys," sighed Rayne. "Please forgive me for putting you through this again."

The warrior scoffed while holding back his own laughter.

"What are you talking about?" He teased while wrapping his beefy arm across the shoulders and neck of the paladin. "It's not like it's my name we're sullying each and every week."

"Right?" laughed Weasel. "The Templar Knights may go down, but they never go down without a fight! Hey… That's pretty catchy! I'm sure we can market that in a few channels, run a couple of focus groups, test the appeal," the gnome rambled. A few more nonsensical business terms followed but fell upon deaf ears.

A short smile tickled upon Rayne's face. No matter how much adversity they have faced, these guys always knew how to make him feel better.

"Thanks guys."

The trio walked across the snowy landscape as the goblin staffers made quick work of the messy battlefield. The battle may have only lasted half an hour but a moment ago, it looked as if a war had taken place. The goblins, though plagued with their own faults of greed and ambition, were definitely efficient in their work. By the time the three made it across to the entrance, the entire place looked as if no one had ever ventured across these lands.

The icy blue waters of Northrend peaked out across the falling hills. If it weren't for the constant threat and stench of death in the air, Icecrown was actually quite a beautiful place. This continent had proven to be an ambitious expedition when initially proposed but the collective efforts of the Argent Crusade has helped ease the transition and tension of adventurers new and old. Even this bold idea presented by their leader Tirion Fordring seemed overly ambitious but it appeared to be coming together nicely.

Construction had begun only a week ago but thanks to the combined effort of many brave warriors and volunteers, the Argent Tournament will soon be a place where everyone can gather and let the stress of the ongoing war melt away even if for just a few precious moments.

Near the south end of the construction zone, a small hut stood proudly. The cloth exterior had seen better days and its wooden support pikes may have been repurposed from large weapons or even another hut a few decade ago. Even through the frugality of their efforts, the goblins did not waste a copper unless it meant making them a hundred more.

Two goblins sat in front of a crudely carved table inside as they poured over the mounds of papers stacked before them. Their constant bickering seemed to drown out over the furious stitching of ink and quill. Rayne was almost a little nervous to interrupt them but both his time and theirs were precious in their own way.

"Ahem," the paladin coughed. "You wanted to see me Gizex?"

The goblin on the right darted his attention up quickly. He wore simple clothing stitched out of basic linens.

"Hey Rayne!" He excitedly cheered.

Gizex dove underneath the table and met the trio outside with a hearty handshake.

"Glad to see you back in one piece today. I hope those guys weren't too rough on you."

Nervous laughter filled the air as Rayne tried to divert attention from their seventh consecutive and otherwise crushing defeat.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he joked. "Though I'm more worried about the damage to my – "

"Bike?" The goblin interrupted. "I didn't see it but it sounded pretty bad. Don't worry, I'll have it pieced together and shipped back to Findle's shop later today. Will that work?"

"Of course," replied the paladin. "I appreciate all of your help."

"Are you kidding?" Gizex teased. "I should be thanking you. You guys really saved my bacon when you offered to help me test this event for the Argent Tournament. I thought I'd actually have to pay a bunch of suckers – " the goblin quickly coughed while catching his slip and continued, "I mean soldiers to donate their bodies to this thing. I'm just shocked you guys didn't want any money."

"Anything to help our group's reputation," Rayne laughed. "Though I figure we'd need to win something once and a while for this to do any good."

"No kidding," the goblin chuckled. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm sorry for the short notice but it looks like today is the last day of our battleground test. Unfortunately, our event was not chosen to be included in the Argent Tournament."

"What?"

Rayne gasped in a bit of genuine surprise. Given the popularity of the event over the last week, he was sure this would be the perfect way to blow off some steam after a hard day of adventuring.

"You can't be serious?"

"Afraid so," squeaked the goblin. "The powers that be think it's a little too intense of a competition for a recreational event. They want to focus more on classic stuff like jousting and archery contests. Personally, if the pansies can't handle a little physical contact, how the hell are they supposed to survive in this northern piece of hell?"

The paladin nodded. Though it was an unfortunate turn of events, the Argent Crusade did have some merit to their decision. It wouldn't be worth potential injury to vital soldiers just for the sake of sport. The real tragedy that lied within was the fact that Rayne would have to seek a new venue to attempt to build his organization's reputation.

After letting out a defeated sigh, Rayne knelt down and patted Gizex on the back.

"It is unfortunate that we must end things this way but I appreciate all of the help you've offered us. I know I had a lot of fun and if there is something else in the future that we can help you with, don't hesitate to ask."

"You're such a softy Rayne," Gizex smiled while pinching his cheeks. "Maybe if you were a bit tougher out there, you would've won once and a while."

"Maybe," Rayne chuckled as he stood up. "Thanks again for giving us this opportunity and I hope to see you around real soon."

"Count on it!" Cheered the goblin. "I've arranged for your griffon flights back to Dalaran as requested; on me of course. Don't let anyone say that Gizex doesn't take care of his own."

"Yea, it was the least you could do you cheap gear-sucker," Weasel hissed under his breath.

"What was that?!" Snapped the goblin.

"Nothing," Marcus retorted while scooping up his companion in a tight grip and holding him high off the ground. "I think this cold climate may have gotten the best of him."

The warrior took a deep look in his eyes as any amateur medic would and turned back towards Gizex.

"Yep, definitely a case of an upset stomach. It sounds like he's talking out of his mouth when actually, it's coming out of his ass."

The goblin groaned while turning his attention back towards the more positive and regal member of the group.

"Anyways… Don't be a stranger now. We'll be waiting to see you back here in a few weeks when this is all up and running. I'm sure we'll have something that'll be just perfect for you and your boys. Maybe a gnome punting contest, or even – "

"What was that you son of a murlock whore?!" Weasel barked while flailing his tiny arms and legs defiantly in the air while begging his muscular companion to put him down.

"Whoa," Marcus said slowly swinging him backwards. "That was a big one. You might want to stay upwind Gizex. He's liable to blow any minute. I'll get him out of here and spare you any more potential outbursts." The warrior said while waving his free arm. "See you later."

The paladin desperately held back his laughter and followed his companions towards the griffon roost.

"Take care of yourself Gizex."

Just as he turned away completely, Rayne gave his friend one last glowing smile. The radiant glow of his holy aura seemed to be at its peak whenever he was truly happy and this was no exception.

"I promise, I will return."

Even those whose minds were clouded with money and greed could not help but feel uplifted every time they heard the genuine and caring voice of a noble paladin. Though their partnership was brief, Rayne knew he had made a good friend here and would welcome the opportunity to return. Fate always had a funny way of bringing people together. Perhaps it was already working on the next companion destined to meet the brave and noble leader of the Templar Knights.


	3. Chapter 2

_Silvermoon City_

 _Quel'Thalas_

The golden sun pelted down its bright rays across the lively landscape of the Royal Exchange. Citizens frolicked to and fro going about their daily business without a second thought to the concerns of those around them. Pairs of guards stood at their usual posts but seemed to be even more observant than usual. This would prove a bit more troublesome given the circumstances. An escape of this magnitude could only be done when the challenge was greatest. There was no other way she could think to prove herself worthy as an adventurer.

Lorelei Starstrider carefully placed the ragged brown cloak over her head. Though this garment reeked of some of the most foul of odors, the young elf still took hear time placing it gently over the softly brushed locks of her shining blonde hair. She then tucked the delicate chains of her armor within the filthy cloth. Hiding her large bow and quiver would prove to be the most difficult of this deception but she made sure to practice this walk for hours before proceeding with her getaway. No one would suspect let alone approach an old beggar with a gross hunch. All she had to do was stay off the main roads and blend into the seedy areas of her surroundings and freedom would be well within her grasp.

Patience was crucial to the success of this mission. She timed this moment just right. Just as another slow and calculated breath exited the soft halls of her tiny nose, the pair of guards directly east of her position slowly began walking out of view. Now was her only chance.

Wind violently spilled over her body as she darted from building to building. The shadows played their part in keeping her well hidden but wouldn't do much for the surrounding noise. With each heavy pant the exited her lungs Lorelei began reciting the numbers as she practiced. Each guard shift took approximately twenty seconds. It would be tight but given her current speed and trajectory, the Walk of Elders would be under her toes with seconds to spare.

The last building drew near. Her timing here was of the absolute essence. One slip would cost her everything. It took nearly an hour to escape the confines of Farstriders' Square where security was arguable the strongest. The tricks and ploys she used to flee from that military infested plaza would not work a second time. This would be her only shot.

Lorelei stopped at the edge of the final building. Her delicate green eyes peaked out of the shadows of the cloak and looked ahead. A pair of guards were still at their post and hadn't made the exchange yet. They were questioning a young man. The tone of their words made it sound like harassment above all else. This was not figured into her calculations. A small group of beige shrubs were her only recourse for cover but stood no more than twenty feet from the ambitious pair of heavily armored soldiers.

They continued to intimidate the individual while shoving a piece of parchment against his chest. Their demeanor may have been rough but this brief moment provided an excellent opportunity for the mischievous young elf. Lorelei darted towards the bushes making each step light enough to walk on the very air she poured into her slightly winded lungs. She came to a sudden but silent halt within the center of the largest bush. Her eyes peered into the dense frame of twigs and leaves hoping to find the tiniest trail of light to peek through.

"Don't make me ask again," one of the guards groaned. He forced the paper against the unwilling citizen's chest and spat, "Have you seen this girl?"

Multiple daggers pierced into Lorelei's heart. She didn't need eyes of an eagle to confirm her crudely drawn face sketched out on that parchment. If they had already known she had escaped then surely the main gates would be heavily guarded as well. This would greatly impede her efforts but it didn't stop them outright which meant she still had a chance.

A large window standing directly above the guards and their current hostage practically screamed out to her. From within the recesses of her armor, the young elf procured three small ball bearings. These bullets were graciously donated from her trainer during one of her recent sessions but Lorelei was never one to favor a gun over a trustworthy bow and arrow. Her ancestors thrived on that technology. It would be a waste to sully her hands with dwarven-forged weapons.

Everything had to be perfect in order for this to work. Thankfully, the winds were calm on this day which would offer little resistance to her trio of smoothly polished steel rocks. The citizen began to defiantly stand his ground but was forcibly pushed down. The groan in her gut wanted to assist the innocent bystander but her resolve steeled as this proved to be the most opportune moment to strike. Lorelei slowly opened her cloak while gently sulking backwards. She launched the volley of bullets over the bush. The air winced against their forceful approached and the once calm atmosphere of the eastern trade district erupted in a hail of shattered glass.

The guards looked up and were just in time to be covered in a rain of clear shrapnel. They cried out painfully as the fragments of glass washed over them. Some of them pelting harmlessly off of their armor while a few intricate cuts just happened to find their way across their smooth alabaster flesh. Her aim was perfect. Throwing the bullets through the center would have cause the glass to fall inwards and provided a brief but otherwise forgetful distraction. By targeting the window at three key points towards the bottom at the base of the frame, it forced the pane of glass forward instead of backwards thus resulting in the perfect diversion.

Lorelei wasted no time and sprinted towards the main walkway. Her brilliant maneuver proved to be a critical success as more localized guards raced to the aid of the others and gave her a clear path to the Walk of Elders. All of the local attention was focused on the sudden assault on a pair of nearby guards. It was much easier than originally anticipated. However, the escape was slowed to a grinding halt when she encountered the line of citizens, merchants, and adventurers piling up at the main gate.

The line wasn't too long and most of them seemed to get through rather quickly. Unfortunately for the young elf, the two guards were meticulously checking everyone's identity before allowing them to pass. Naturally, all non-blood elves were omitted without scrutiny but they were being very methodical about checking her fellow brothers and sisters. This was the final hurdle and of course it had to be the most difficult. Lorelei wasn't about ready to give up. She would do anything to taste the sweet air of freedom even if for just a brief moment. Her eyes locked on those of another nearby guard mounted on a pristine white horse. Just below the four-legged creature was the key to her final escape. This would not be her proudest moment and if she were caught, her brother would never let her live it down but sometimes you have to sacrifice everything to get what you want.

The young elf made her way towards the main gate. She crept up beside the horse and kneeled just below its backside. A warm pile of freshly laid excrement sat in a small pile just inches away from her hands. Lorelei took a deep breath and swallowed a big whiff of pride along with another astoundingly foul substance before clawing a large mound of the warm and muddy waste. The horrific smell permeated the surrounding air and began staining her lungs with its vulgar odor. There was no turning back now. Lorelei quickly mashed the substance all across her glimmering white skin and caked it on thickly until she appeared to bathe in the substance.

It took every bit of resolve she had within her constitution to resist vomiting. She cautiously made her way towards the gate and stood in line with all of the others. A few peered down at her noticing the foul stench protruding from her frame but they quickly turned away hoping to forget it and her as quickly as possible.

"Next," ordered the guard.

They were loud but definitely close enough to see through the handful of others that stood before her. A tuft of feces slipped from her forehead and graced her lip on the way down. Even with her tongue buried inside of her throat she could still taste the disgusting clump of waste desperately trying to dig its way inside.

"You!" Another guard shouted grabbing the male elf in front of her.

Though his attractiveness was questionable, his attire was more feminine that most which definitely warranted attention. Lorelei breathed a quick sigh of relief.

"Hey," the first shouted.

He grabbed onto her shoulders and pulled the young elf closer towards him. Instinctively, Lorelei turned her head away. That move as a testament to the guilty and she knew this would be her last hurrah if this disguise didn't work.

"Let me see your," the guard spoke.

As his lungs drew in the breath he needed to finish his sentence, a waft of filthy air poured into his body.

"Ewwww!" The guard cried releasing the girl from his grip. "You're disgusting. Get the hell out of here you filthy mongrel!" He ordered.

Lorelei couldn't have been happier to oblige. She quickly made her way passed the gate and marched south down the open road until she was just out of sight from the guards. After a quick search of her surroundings, she veered east back towards the main walls of Silvermoon where her friend was waiting for her.

A short row of trees graced the glorious walls of her proud home. Their leaves were shifting from the passionate red aura they once gave off to a softer orange glow. Sitting underneath one of these trees was a solemn green tiger. It lazily laid next to a thick trunk deep in a soft slumber. Lorelei approached the creature slowly while still keeping an eye on her surroundings. The last thing she needed in her life was a random pact of guards ruining what would have otherwise been a fairly clean getaway.

"Emerald," she whispered getting closer and closer to her beloved companion.

Though they had only been together for a short time, their moments shared were unforgettable. Lorelei could never forget the day she met this majestic creature. He was the runt of a very large litter of brothers and sisters but what he lacked in size he made up for in courage and ferocity. It took weeks of training just to get him to obey the simplest of commands but now, she could talk to him as easily as if he had pointy ears and walked on only two legs.

Lorelei had ordered him to wait for her right here earlier this morning when her daily training had ended and like the dutiful pet she had trained him to be, he obeyed perfectly. The keen ears of the tiger sprang up. His eyes opened and locked onto hers. He quickly rolled on his belly and dug his claws into the soft dirt where the tree took root. His white fangs pierced through the soft red lips as he began to growl.

"Emerald!" Lorelei snapped.

She removed her hood and towered over her disobedient pet with a menacing snarl.

"It's me, Lorelei."

The creature bounced up to take a closer look at his master. He could never forget the serene sound of her young voice. However, a couple of deep sniffs from his black nose proved challenging to properly identify the girl to which he had bonded so closely over the last year.

"You jerk," she proclaimed while shoveling off the wet excrement from her face. "It's just a bit horse manure. I'm almost insulted you didn't recognize me."

The tiger sank down looking guilty over the words spat by his master. Soft hands quickly washed over his green fur. Fingers caressed and tickled his favorite spot on the back of his head between both ears. He could have sat under this tree bathing in this blissful feeling for an eternity. When her hands slowly stopped, he knew the party was over and it was time to go to work.

"Come on Emerald," she ordered.

The tiger stood up and stretched out his tired legs as followed the girl back down to the main road. Lorelei took one last look at her home and held back a tear as she turned and jogged away from it. Her brother would be more than furious when he found her again but she vowed not to return to this place until she got a taste of the outside world for herself. There would be no more guards watching her every move; no more maidens attending to her needs; and no more stress to be the kind of women everyone wants her to be.

This was the first day of Lorelei Starstrider's new life and the only thing awaiting her now was a brand new adventure. A whole realm of people awaited her and she couldn't wait to introduce herself to this brave new world.


	4. Chapter 3

_Dalaran_

 _Crystalsong Forest_

The magnificent floating city of Dalaran was always a sight of bewilderment and wonder. Tall columns sprouted in various locations is a testament to the wondrous imagination of the arcane architects that designed such a brilliant residence for the Kirin Tor. Their dedication to their craft is rivaled by few, if any, organizations in Azeroth and gaining their favor is considered one of the most honorable achievements an adventurer can earn.

Rayne wasted no time after touching down at Krasus' Landing. He immediately exited the griffon and made haste towards the western portion of the city without even a look back to verify the status of his beloved companions.

"Hey Rayne!" Hollered Weasel as his winged transport was still several feet away from its landing point. "Wait up!"

"You couldn't stop him if you tried pip-squeak," Marcus countered. "Besides, we know where he's going. Might as well relax and enjoy the ride."

The gnome's groan could be heard throughout all of the other adventurers awaiting their turn at the griffon roost but Rayne was already long gone. He blitzed past the path leading to the Sunreaver's Sanctuary with his target locked dead in his sights. Even though he hadn't been away from this place for more than a day, The paladin was excited to hear about the results of one of his beloved side projects.

The Magus Commerce Exchange was a popular place for adventurers to hone some of their non-combative crafts. Blacksmiths, tailors, herbalists, enchanters and more found this spot to be a pleasant place to perfect their secondary skills and professions. However, none of those vocations particularly called out to the paladin. Only one of them could be called his true love and he devoted all of his time and passion in the pursuit of the newest and latest technologies. The only way anyone could fulfill that dream is through the continually growing and ever innovative art of engineering.

"Findle!"

Rayne called out to the engineering shop owner as his plate boots came to a screeching halt in front of the large building known as Like Clockwork. The giant moving gears above the door was a small homage to the incredible feats performed inside.

"Rayne?" A whiny voice called from within.

The tiny creature known as Findle Whistlesteam quickly stepped into view. He wore modest brown and tan colored clothing that matched the auburn color of his hair. Though, only his facial hair was present at the time as his skull housed another unique gnomish device that masked everything above his eyebrows. It was a small steel shaped bowl with a unique radar dish that slowly spun in a counter-clockwise motion.

A sense of perplexity filled the paladin's expression.

"How did you know it was me before you even came out here?"

The gnome gave his friend a boisterous laugh. The infectious sound could be heard throughout the entire commerce center and drew some odd looks from other nearby denizens.

"That my boy, is easy…" He stated while tipping his head slightly. "Behold my latest creation. I call it the Gigaflux Electromagnetic Automated Rectifier and Synchronic Condenser Overlay Recall Emitter."

Trying to remember that as it was said proved to be more of a challenge than attempting to understand what all of those words even meant when put together. This was clear in the painful yet somewhat enthusiastic expression of the paladin.

"That's… Interesting Findle," Rayne smiled hoping his enthusiasm would overshadow the confusion he felt. "But what does it do?"

"Ah, that is where the true genius of my invention lies," laughed Findle. "You see, this device is an advanced prototype of my original anti-stealth goggles that would automatically detect anyone within a five-yard radius. However, what that invention lacked was practicality which I have now instilled in this new device," the gnome boasted. "You see, the Gigaflux Electromagnetic Automated Rectifier and Synchronic Condenser Overlay Recall Emitter scans all of the weapons, equipment and armor carried by an adventurer. It then takes that information, translates and decodes the information into a special defined number than analyzes the ability, skill, and overall combat potential of the adventurer."

"Wait," Rayne interrupted. His overall sense of puzzlement was thick but nowhere near that of his friend's pride. "We're coding adventurers into numbers now?"

"Precisely!" Findle cheered. "Think about it. With this device, we will be able to properly and effectively manage our armies resources by ensuring our troops don't go into battle without the necessary skill and equipment. The score will tell us just how adept each person is and will determine the overall ability without even stepping into combat. This will revolutionize the way we adventure!"

Rayne responded with a quiet laugh. He wasn't sure how his fellow adventurers would feel being treated as a number instead of a person but if Findle was confident in it, the least he could do was give him the benefit of the doubt.

"That's great Findle," the paladin politely smiled. "So, what does it say about me?"

"I'm glad you asked!" The chipper gnome replied. "Let's see here," he stated while bending slightly pointing the radar square at Rayne's face. "I just need you to stand here for a moment and –"

Findle's analysis was immediately interrupted by a loud popping sound emanating from his new device followed by a quickly growing plume of black smoke.

"What the – ah hell!" Screamed Findle as he removed the newly damaged device from his head.

"I guess you still need to work out the kinks?" Joked Rayne.

"I thought I had it nailed down pat this time," the defeated gnome whispered. "Eh, just forget it. I'll play with this later. But, there's still some good news to be had. Come inside quickly!"

The paladin followed his engineering mentor inside. Gears, sprockets, and ratchets continually clicked and turn creating an obvious but soothing drone. The smell of this place may be too intense for something but there was nothing Rayne loved more than getting his hands dirty and creating new tinkers that makes even the most impossible of ideas into the simplest of solutions.

Findle moseyed his way around the front desk. He placed the necessary stepping stool required for a man of his size to see over the large kiosk and procured a small device from within the glass case. The gnome grinned as he placed it atop the desk. It was a small rectangular plate box slightly bigger than a deck of cards and yet they were both equally mesmerized at the final product.

"I know you've been waiting for this and now, here it is," he cheered. "Behold, the Hand-mounted pyro-rocket launcher! I took those designs and prototype you created and tinkered it into a final product."

"Are you serious?" Rayne gasped. He picked up the box and examined it closely. "It looks just like my sketches. How did you –"

"What are you waiting for?" Smirked Findle. "Go on, try it on!"

Rayne couldn't help but smile as he began affixing the device to the forearm portion of his gauntlet. With a gentle tap, the box snapped into place and quickly dug itself into the plate as if it were a natural part of the armor. The paladin continued to flex and twist his arm in sure wonderment over what had befallen his eyes.

"This is incredible!" He cheered. "It's completely inconspicuous; like it wasn't even there just a second ago."

The gnome nodded.

"It's a brilliant design. All you need to do is flick your wrist up to load and down to – "

"Like this?" Rayne interrupted while pointing his fist towards the gnome. He performed the gesture as described and a small plate cover quickly launched up revealing a small cylindrical chamber.

"Gah!" Findle gasped while ducking underneath the counter.

After a few uncomfortable seconds followed with some heavy panting, he slowly rose and returned to his regular position.

"Oh, I forgot to load it. What a lucky break!" He laughed.

Rayne became a bit more flustered than normal when trying out the device given that he could have turned his friend and mentor's shop into a smoking crater in an instant.

"That's a relief," Rayne painfully giggled. "I take it you have the ammunition as I requested as well?"

"Sure do!" Findle replied while placing a handful of small multi-colored cylindrical cartridges on the table. "Red ones are the explosives as we discussed. While they won't pack a punch as some of their larger cousins, it will be more than enough to _incapacitate_ even the biggest of brutes you should face out there."

The paladin nodded while examining the explosive. It was much denser than some of the other rockets he's built. Compacting that much gunpowder into a single space was risky but he trust Findle's designs and judgment.

"The green ones are your standard flares. They'll shoot up about 100 feet and stay active for approximately 30 seconds. The rainbow striped ones are fireworks. Not sure why you needed those but hey, no judgments here. The white ones with the red 'X' on them," Findle began while giving them a bit more attention, "are the flares as you had specially designed."

"Actually," Rayne stated, "It's a cross."

"Yea, yea…" Findle hissed. "Those were a pain in the ass to build. Even my tiny hands were getting blisters while building them which is why I could only make two."

"I appreciate it Findle," smiled the paladin. "This means a lot."

"Don't go all mushy on me now kid," the gnome laughed. "Just make sure to be mindful its and your limitations. Size restricts you from loading more than one cartridge at a time. It takes about 10-15 seconds to fire and reload so while it won't be helpful to use more than once in the thick of combat, it could prove to be a game changer to help turn the tide of an ongoing battle."

"Fair enough," said Rayne as he carefully secured the rockets and flares within the front pouch of his belt. "Still, I couldn't be happier with the results. Thank you Findle."

"Thank me?" The gnome replied nearly aghast. "I should be thanking you. It was your design that gave birth to this splendid device. Why hell, I had already made some minor tweaks and sold the prototype of the new design to the Argent Crusade."

"You're kidding?!" The paladin stated amidst his newly found surprise. "How many did they order?"

"Oh, you know… Just enough to get them started," Findle grinned while pulling a rather large sack from beneath the counter.

Gold coins shined radiantly from the top of the bag appearing as if it were ready to burst should another stray coin attempt to pry its way inside.

"They wanted 50 to test and should they go well, another 500 to order."

Rayne slammed his fists on the table and loomed over the large cloth sack filled with coins so delicious they were almost good enough to eat.

"They already paid for all 550?"

"Are you kidding?" Laughed Findle. "This is just your cut from the initial 50. Designs like that are expensive to produce so there's plenty more where that came from buddy."

The paladin let out a boisterous cheer within the realm of his personal thoughts. Any continued displays of joyful emotion could send the wrong message to any passersby or onlookers.

"I know you don't need the money as much as some of us given your last name," the gnome teased, "but at least go out and buy something for yourself. You've earned it."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Rayne smiled. He opened the bag and poured out two large handfuls of coins on the table. "I'd like to make a purchase. Please give me half a dozen deweaponized mechanical companions and another half dozen mechanical spiderlings. All in different colors with remotes as well. And if you have any extra rolls of silk cloth and some sewing kits you'd save me a trip to the tailor."

"Of course," Findle said with a touch of surprise in his tone. He pushed back a couple of coins in Rayne's direction while saying "You're not planning on starting some kind of mechanized fight club, are you?"

Rayne couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"Something like that."

The gnome disappeared into the back of the shop. After a few short moments, he returned with a large mechanical box. It was deep cobalt blue in color with several gears and springs twisting and turning on every face. Findle placed in on the desk gently nudged it in his friend's direction.

"Here you are," he cheerfully stated. "Everything you need is right inside. I put them in a complimentary titanium toolbox for you."

"You didn't have to do that," Rayne lamented.

The remorse under his breath was thick but he was still thankful nonetheless. Those toolboxes used some of the most expensive materials harvested from this frigid continent. The fact that Findle was just giving it away was above and beyond the call of duty.

"Think nothing of it buddy. Call it an investment in our continued partnership and friendship. You've really done a lot to help keep the gears turning in this place. I have to admit, for a guy your size, you've really got a knack for micro-level tinkering."

"Really?" Rayne replied with a touch of surprise in his voice. "I guess I still need work on the macro then…"

"The bike still giving you problems, eh?"

The paladin nodded.

"I'm not sure what's going on anymore. The more I mess with it, the worse it gets."

"Want me to take a look at it?"

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble. It should be arriving sometime today… In several boxes."

"That bad huh?" Findle teased. "Well, no biggie. I'll take a look and see what this 'ol tinkerer can do. Who knows, maybe the answer's been sitting under your nose the entire time."

"Thanks again Findle," Rayne stated while grasping the toolbox and sack of coins in each of his hands. "I really appreciate all of your help on this."

"Ah, com'on now…" The gnome stated while working his way around the corner and giving his friend a hearty pat on the back of his knee. "If you keep this up, you're going to make my vision orbs spring a leak."

Laughter filled Rayne's throat as he quickly exited the building. He turned one last time and saw Findle waving him off.

"You take care now and be back real soon. I can't spend all this money by myself. I mean, I will but I'll feel real bad about it afterwards."

The paladin nodded and continued on his way. With all of this excess money to spend, he knew exactly where he wanted to go next. There was still a bit more shopping to do in order to get everything on his list and time was of the essence. He promised to return before nightfall and the last thing he wanted to do was keep her waiting.

"Going somewhere pal?" Marcus chimed as his oblivious leader walked right past him exiting the Magus Commerce Exchange.

The warrior and rogue laid back against the outer wall of the Tanks for Everything blacksmithing shop. Rayne turned his head slightly while still continuing east towards his next destination.

"Hey guys," replied the paladin. "Sorry, can't chat. I'm don't want to get behind. I'll catch up with you guys tomorrow. Sounds good? See you later!" He stated with both his presence and voice drifting further and further away.

"Now just where do you think he's going at a time like this?" Weasel coyly pondered.

"Think about it," Marcus responded. "We've got nothing else planned and the only job we had just fired us not even an hour ago. Why do you think he's in such a hurry?"

The gnome pondered it for a brief moment. The realization sparked a lightbulb that burned brighter than a hundred suns. It was so painfully obvious he was surprised it took him longer to realize it than the brute muscle-head standing next to him.

They both nodded, looked each other dead in the eyes while saying the answer simultaneously.

"Narula."

* * *

 _Runeweaver Square_

 _Dalaran_

Citizens and visitors alike packed the streets of Dalaran. The war had certainly taken its toll on the soldiers and adventurers but the local economy couldn't have been better. Rayne graciously stepped through the mob while being extra careful not to spill or drop his newly acquired items. He reached the northeastern part of town and was delighted to be standing in front of his favorite food vendor, One More Glass.

A small stand was stationed just outside the main entrance. Empty glasses of wine waiting to be filled with sweet alcoholic nectar were being meticulously cleaned by a young elven girl. Her remarkable good looks were hard to miss by those passing by and even caused a bit of a traffic jam by wondering first time visitors. The magenta dress carefully stitched with golden outlines complimented her slender figure. Her piercing silver eyes drew upwards while parting the silken blonde locks of her hair as she gazed upon the paladin with a luxurious smile.

"Rayne," she energetically called. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise Fialla," he replied while approaching her kiosk.

Rayne gentle set the toolbox down and held it gently between his feet where he stood.

"How have things been? You guys keeping busy."

The elven girl coyly sighed.

"Things have been so-so. Business as usual for the most part. Better now that you're here."

Rayne could feel his cheeks swelling. Fialla Sweetberry was more forward than he was used to but he appreciated the sentiment. Changing topics would be the best course of action for now. Anything to get the focus off him anyways.

"I have a big list today," he stated while pulling out a short roll of parchment.

Rayne handed it to Fialla and felt her hand linger on his for a bit longer than it would normally take to retrieve an item. That was just another burden that someone of his stature must overcome. While not as daunting as most, it could certainly lead to a lot of misconception and detriment to the reputation the paladin was trying to build for himself.

Fialla pondered over the list for a moment making sure to sneak a few glances into her favorite customer's deep blue eyes.

"This is a lot of stuff. Much more than your usual order. Did something good happen today?"

"Something like that," laughed Rayne. "Business is looking up so I wanted to surprise them today with a little something extra."

"You're always so sweet and considerate," Fialla replied with a smirk. "She's a lucky girl."

The paladin laughed quietly to himself. He could feel his bashfulness increasing tremendously. Anytime she crept into his mind it always gave him a warm fuzzy glow that elated every fiber of his being.

"I believe we have everything you need in stock," the girl replied snapping Rayne out of his trance. "Give me a few minutes sweety. It shouldn't take too long."

"Actually," Rayne interrupted. "I need to stop by Aimee's cart real quick but I'll be right back."

"Wait," Fialla pleaded. Her brow furrowed as the tinge of anger began to swell within her expression. "Where do you think you're – " but before she could finish he was already lost in the crowd.

Rayne darted through the mass of people once more towards the northern end of town and settled his gaze on another young elven girl in a white shirt and long purple skirt standing in front of a sweet smelling cart. Her long black hair glistened in the afternoon air. The glorious aroma of fresh pastries tickled his nose as the paladin delightfully approached.

"Cakes, brownies, donuts," she called out to the crowd. "The best in town. Get them while they're –" her speech was quickly halted as Rayne's heroic presence obscured everything else in view.

"Hi Aimee!" He smiled with a short wave. "How are you?"

"R-Rayne!" She gasped. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to stop by today?"

"I'm sorry for the short notice," Rayne began, "But I was hoping to catch you while everything was still fresh."

"Of course it's fresh!" She stammered doing her best not to falter over her words. "However, if you had told me you were coming today… I would have made something special."

The last few words meekly spat out of her mouth almost at the sound of a whisper.

"Hmm?" The paladin muttered under his breath.

The hustle and bustle of the crowd surrounding them drowned out her last few words.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" Aimee defended rapidly waving her hands across her face. "What can I do for you today?"

Rayne looked over the short menu and pondered for a moment. His generosity was cranked at its maximum level today so he decided to splurge a little bit. "I need two big berry pies, a dozen carrot cupcakes, three jugs of sweetened goats milk and chocolate celebration cake"

"W-Wow… You're really going to eat all of that?"

"Well," Rayne said desperately trying to contain his blush. "It's not just for me…"

"I see," the elven girl sighed. "Please say hello for me, won't you?"

"Will do."

She quickly turned around and began filling the paladin's massive order. It took four pastry boxes and a large bag to carry it all but someone Rayne managed to balance it snugly with just one arm. Their warmth and fragrance begged him to dive right in here and now but this wasn't a treat to be squandered but shared.

"That'll be 24 gold pieces," Aimee stated.

Rayne reached into is still quite full sack of coins and counted out thirty before gently placing them into her soft delicate hands.

"There you go!" He brightly stated.

"Thank you –" she began. "Wait, this is too much!"

"Keep it," he smiled while returning on his way towards One More Glass. "A token of my appreciation for your continued and friendly service," Rayne finished while waving.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her pouting just a little bit. Rayne marched back towards the east side of town while dancing his way through the uproarious crowd. He made it towards the familiar vendor in one piece with his superb pastries still intact. Upon his return, he was greeted with a familiar but slightly begrudging expression of the young elven girl.

"Hey Fialla," he sneered. "I told you I'd be right back."

"You louse," she sighed. "How could you go running off on me like that?"

The paladin's chipper expression dropped slightly as he sulked where he stood.

"I'm sorry. I'm just… A little pressed for time, that's all."

"She gets to see you more than the rest of us put together," Fialla moped. "All I want is a little more attention. Is that too much to ask?"

Rayne knew this dance very well. Given his stature, demeanor, and looks, it was something he learned to deal with from a very young age. The only way to counter this assault was through over-compensation. It was a bit embarrassing but sometimes you've got to reach down deep into places you wouldn't normally go in order to achieve victory.

"Please forgive me Fialla," Rayne stated in a somber tone.

He slowly placed down his boxes of pastries and locked eyes with the beautiful elf. A hand slowly graced the tender flesh of her delicate face as he cupped her cheek and gently rubbed her chin with his thumb.

"You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, right?"

Redness began staining her smooth white skin. Her eyes shot wide as she demurely nodded in agreement.

"I promise, when I have more free time," he sternly continued. "I'll pay you a _personal_ visit."

A sea of blood flooded Fialla's expression as she erratically nodded in approval.

"I'll – I'll – I'll…" She stuttered while still locked in his gentle touch. "I'll go get your things right now!"

Her tone had drastically changed from compelling to wincing in the drop of a hat. She darted back into the shop almost as if her speed were magically enhanced.

As soon as she was out of view Rayne let out a deep exhausting breath. He could feel the embarrassment of his actions plaguing his thoughts. That wasn't who Rayne was; not in this or any life but he knew it was the only way he could quickly deescalate those particular types of situations. The only hope he had was no one else was paying attention.

"Yo Lady-killer," a voice called.

Rayne knew that tone well. Nothing got past the owner of this fine establishment and Lucian Trias was as sharp as they come. Though he was only a few years older than the paladin, he had already made quite a name for himself as one of the most popular vendors in Dalaran. Apparently, his cousin in Stormwind isn't doing too bad in a satellite shop either.

"Please don't remind me…" Rayne winced shaking his head. "What brings you out here anyways? It's not like you to leave the shop."

"When Fialla ran in here grinning like an idiot, stumbling around my inventory and wares I just had to see who the culprit was. I should have known it was you," laughed Lucian.

They shook hands. Rayne was always taken again at how tight Lucian's grip was. For a guy who does nothing more than bake breads, blend cheeses, and mix wines, he had some muscles hidden within that elegant purple shirt.

"Besides, I wanted to come out and personally thank the guy who's helping me keep the lights on in this place."

"Com'on Lucian," Rayne retorted. "You guys were doing great before I showed up."

The vendor shook his head.

"It's not about quantity… But quality. We were doing okay for ourselves but thanks to your repeated visits my staff has been a lot perkier than usual. That translates to a lot of repeat business if you catch my drift."

"Glad I could help…" Rayne winced.

"He-Here you go!" Fialla called slammed down two large sacks stuffed with the finest and most delectable items in town.

Apparently she still hadn't recovered from the initial shock but the young elven girl steeled herself as she repeated his massive order.

"One dozen loaves of crusty flatbread. One dozen loaves of sweet potato bread. Six loaves of fresh Dalaran bread. Three wheels of Dalarn swiss. Three wheels of aged Dalaran sharp. And five pounds of tundra berries."

"Thank you," Rayne winked returning to the sultry tone he used previously. Lucian began snickering while nearly broke the paladin's serious composure but thanks to the discipline of the light, he powered through it.

"That'll be 150 gold pieces my good friend," Lucian smiled.

The paladin reached into his large coin pouch and dumped the required amount in a neat pile on the table in front of the blushing young elf.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Lucian winked.

Rayne could feel the tension building within his brow. If someone he knew were to see him like this, especially _her_ , he would never live it down.

"The pleasure," he began while scooping up both large sacks of food. "Is yet to come."

His last words came out with a tiny smirk as he locked eyes with Fiallla. Rayne could sense her composure about to break any second as he gathered all of his belongings and made a slow but steady getaway towards his final destination.

 _Gah!_ He screamed in his mind. _Why did I have to say that?!_

Rayne continued cursing himself as he made a mad dash towards the Silver Enclave. He went over the humiliating words a thousand times in his head. He regretted every second of it. However, when the situation called for it, he could turn on the charm as easy as flipping a coin. He was startingto build a bad reputation which would greatly diminish the current one he was still attempting to cultivate. Most importantly, if _she_ ever knew the things he did to get by in this place, there's no telling what that would do to their relationship. He never even dared to give it even a hypothetical thought.

The Silver Enclave was just ahead. Rayne could spot the mighty crest of the Alliance carved out of stained glass from Krasus' Landing. Even at this distance, it was still a beautiful sight to behold. This building had become the temporary stronghold for all members of the Alliance. The Kirin Tor had a good reason to keep the factions separated in this neutral magocracy run city.

Just outside the main entrance, another pair of familiar faces presented themselves. A duo of silver haired twins in gleaming white and black armored robes stood outside the entrance. The male had his shiny locks tied in a long ponytail while the female let hers hang loosely over her shoulders and chest. The glow of their radiant spaulders accented their smooth white skin and only complimented their already powerful good looks. They only major difference between them was that the male wore sharp rectangular glasses that slightly enlarged the sight of their shared radiant golden eyes. If it weren't for their intimidating presence, they would probably be as popular as Rayne in some parts of this town. Maybe even more so.

"Hey Sam, Zari!" The paladin called from behind his heaping pile of wares.

Samuel and Zariyana Legend came from a noble family. Their ancestry can be traced back all the way to before even Lordaeron was established. They have served as both priests, doctors and advisors to nobles, lords, and kings for centuries and are considered to be amongst the top one-percent of intellectuals in all of Azeroth. Why they accepted the invitation to join the Templar Knights was beyond Rayne's comprehension but they were loyal companions and good friends.

"Greetings Rayne," Samuel nodded.

"It is good to see you," Zariyana acknowledged.

"Likewise," the paladin replied. "What brings you all the way out here to Dalaran? I thought father requested you guys doing research back at Wintergarde."

"He did," stated Samuel. "One of the books we required was actually being stored in the library above."

"Oh," Rayne pondered. "If the book is in there… Then what are you two doing out here."

"Settling a bet," Zariyana answered.

Rayne shook his head. He knew where this was going. Despite their formal and respectful nature, the Legend twins were as competitive as they come. They were always trying to one-up the other in any way imaginable. Be it knowledge, wisdom, or strength, nothing was off limits to these two as they desperately battled for superiority.

"I'm almost afraid to ask…" Rayne sighed.

"It's simple really," Samuel began. "Zariyana believes that it is possible to place a divine barrier on an unsuspecting target instantaneously during the point of impact of a single target offensive spell."

It took a moment for the weight of those words to register in the paladin's mind but when they did, his shoulders could not bear their audacious mass.

"Please tell me you aren't testing this on random passersby."

"We're not savages," Zariyana replied. "We're offering a gold piece to anyone willing to assist us."

Rayne could feel himself sinking lower and lower into the pit of remorse.

"You guys… I don't think stunts like this are going to help our reputation."

"Perhaps you're right," nodded Samuel. "Then again, neither would pathetic displays of sportsmanship."

A bolt of lightning struck the paladin's consciousness. He couldn't believe word traveled that fast. Things were going so great after his talk with Findle he had already forgotten about it.

"You heard about that?" Rayne sulked.

"Everyone's heard about that," Samuel retorted.

"It's been going around town for quite a while now," Zariyana added.

"Perhaps your female acquaintances spared you the embarrassment but the locals have not," continued Samuel. "Despite your best efforts, the Templar Knights are still regarded as a subpar stomping ground for the weak and unskilled."

The paladin sunk even lower into his mopey pit of despair than even he thought possible.

"I'm sorry guys… We tried our best out there today but –"

"There there," Zariyana stated while doing her best to comfort her guild's sullen leader with a stiff and robotic pat on his back. "Do not worry about us. It's not our family's legacy being spurned."

"You guys really know how to cheer a guy up," the paladin groaned.

The male twin shrugged.

"Forget about that. Is there anything we can help you with?"

Rayne's spirits actually picked up a bit as he remembered the journey at hand.

"Actually, there is. Have you guys seen Cayden around?"

"Cayden?" A puzzled Zariyana stated while giving her brother an odd stare. Samuel returned a similar expression as they both looked back at their guild leader as if he were speaking a foreign language.

"Com'on guys…" Rayne pleaded. "You know who Cayden is. Remember? He's the only mage in our guild."

Samuel snapped his fingers as a bright grin illuminated his face.

"He's referring to Matchstick head my dear sister."

"Oh," his twin gasped. "I thought we called him Flame-Brain."

Rayne grimaced as his he was sure to regret asking this next question.

"Do you guys have nicknames for all of our guild members?"

"Actually," Samuel started.

"We don't know any of their names," Zariyana finished.

"You're kidding me," Rayne gasped in a defeated sigh. "What about Marcus?"

"Who?" They responded simultaneously.

Rayne fretted once more and stated, "The warrior."

"Oh, you mean Chrome Dome," Samuel replied obviously referring to their companion's lack of hair from the forehead up.

The paladin was almost afraid to continue but thought it best to keep these names for future reference.

"And Weasel?" Rayne replied. "Surely you use his personally chosen nickname."

"There's a weasel in the guild," Zariyana replied raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't think we kept any pets," Samuel countered.

"The rogue," Rayne sighed.

"Fun-size," they once again respond in unison.

The paladin didn't dare continue since the only other name on his mind was the one that had been rummaging throughout the top of his thoughts for the last hour or so. In this delicate situation, ignorance was indeed bliss.

"Anyways," Rayne exhaled from his momentarily defeated status. "Where can I find Cayden?"

"Who?" They replied.

The fact they had already forgotten drew upon the ire of the paladin much more than he thought it would.

"Flame-brain!" He shouted.

"You son of a -!" A voice cried from within the halls of the Silver Enclave.

 _Damnit!_ Rayne cursed to himself. In a moment of unbridled weakness, he allowed his emotions to become overwhelmed by his companion's gross disrespectfulness and succumbed to their wiles.

Loud footsteps echoed within the halls and rapidly approached the trio. It didn't take long for the raging creature to come into view. Radiant magical energy engulfed his blazing cloth robes and lit up any room he stood in. Even Rayne would admit that the nickname, despite its impertinent origins, was indeed fitting now that he thought about it.

The enraged being removed the flaming cowl from his head that depicted the burning visage of a red skull and revealed the crimson spiked hair of a highly angered young man. Cayden Melton was the youngest member of the Templar Knights. His chosen hairstyle seemed to align perfectly with his companions' slightly dishonorable description. Even the small tuft of hair sitting on his chin appeared to be styled in homage to the strength and power of the arcane element he served. The fiery hot temper burning inside him was about ready to explode as the mage came to a halt before the three members of his guild and made his presence clearly known.

"You bastards!" Cayden cried. "It's enough I have to take this shit from you guys on a daily basis but now you've got Rayne saying it too?!"

"Calm down Cayden," Rayne defended hoping to ease the tension a bit.

"No!" The mage snapped turning his head towards the guild leader for only a brief moment before turning the heat towards to two that originally drew his fury. "I've had it up to here with these two know-it-alls. They think they're so tough hiding behind a name... And yet all it would take is one snap of my fingers to send them into a blinding tornado of flaming torment!" He finished as two balls of flame sparked within the deepest wells of his orange eyes.

The twins simultaneously yawned. Despite the mage's best efforts, his boasts were nothing more than mere threats. Even if he did attempt to combat both of them at the same time, there was no way he would do so in the presence of his guild master. Being the newest member of the team meant that he still had to follow certain protocols even if confronted by some of the guild's more senior members.

"Cayden," Rayne calmly stated once more. "Let it go," he pleaded. "Besides, I need your talents for a very important request."

The pillars of flame that burned within him became instantly silenced. If there was one thing Cayden loved more it was being helpful to those in need; especially those he looked up to.

"Sure thing boss," Cayden smiled almost as if the last ten seconds had never transpired. "Oh, I also have a message from you from Lord Templar."

 _That was fast…_ Rayne cheerfully thought. The last part of Cayden's statement hadn't fully registered as Rayne was just thankful the situation had been completely diffused.

"My father?" Rayne inquired. He hadn't heard from him since they began their expedition into Northrend. Calling him out now meant something serious was going on. "What did he want?"

"He requests your presence at Light's Hope Chapel at midday tomorrow."

"Light's Hope Chapel?" Rayne pondered. The place was a relic of ancient times after the fall of Stratholme all those years ago. Recently, the Lich King had sent an army to confront Tirion Fordring and the Argent Dawn but were foiled thanks to their combined strength and the many blessings of the light.

"Why does he want to meet me there?"

"No idea," Cayden replied shaking his head. "But he asked me to port you over there personally."

Another exhausting breath exited the mighty lungs of the paladin. Just when he thought he was going to enjoy a couple days of rest and relaxation, duty decided to rear its noble head.

"Very well. I'll be ready to go tomorrow when needed," Rayne nodded. "But first," he began trying to withhold the grin forming at the edge of his lips, "Would you please create a portal to Ashenvale for me?"

"Ashenvale?" The mage raised an eyebrow. "That's easy. Of course I can do that."

It was hard for Rayne to hold back his content. This would make things a whole lot easier. Thankfully, the new recruit was not one to question his superiors and saved the paladin the trouble of explaining further.

"Thank you Cayden."

"No problem," the mage replied.

Waves of mystical blue energy began channeling in his hands. A vortex cracked open into the fabric of their reality revealing a large circular portal. A paradise of lush, green vegetation filled the landscape. In the center, a gigantic tree could be seen surrounded by columns of much younger and smaller shrubs with stunning purple leaves that spread endlessly above for as far as his vision could carry.

Rayne took one large step and placed himself halfway between each zone. He looked out at his companions and bid them farewell.

"Meet me here tomorrow morning an hour before noon," the paladin ordered.

"Yes sir!" Saluted the mage.

"Take care you two," Rayne finished.

"Will do," Samuel waved.

"Don't stay up too late," nodded Zariyana.

The paladin finished entering the portal and within an instant disappeared from sight as he hurried towards the final destination. Cayden looked on briefly before dissipating the portal while his two other guildmates appeared to be laughing quietly to themselves. This irked the mage even further as he felt there was some more information he was not privy to but decided to ask nonetheless.

"Why did Rayne want to go to Ashenvale?" Pondered the mage.

"You mean you really don't know?" Samuel countered in his usual condescending tone.

"Relax brother," Zariyana pleaded. "He's still new."

"Enough already!" Cayden barked. His noticeable fiery temperament had returned quicker than usual. "For once, could you guys give me a straight answer?"

The twins looked at each other and offered a solemn but noteworthy pleasing expression. They returned their gaze to the fuming mage and said in unison the one word that would truly answer the young one's inquiry.

"Narula."

"Narula?" Cayden took a moment to think quietly.

The name did indeed sound familiar. It took him longer than expected but the image of the person in question quickly came into view. The mage damned himself for not remembering it soon. After all, she was the first to welcome him into the Templar Knights but in his defense, he hadn't seen her since.

"Oh, Narula!"

Cayden laughed completely dispelling his previously quelled rage.

"That makes sense," he thought when suddenly another painful though shot through his mind and incited his fury once again. "Wait a second… Why the hell do you guys remember her name but you can't bother to do that for anyone else?!"

"That's simple," Samuel smirked.

"We actually respect her," finished Zariyana.

The sound of the mage's utter dismay could be heard from every corner of the floating city. His temper burned brightly and exploded into a volcano of discontent that drew the much unwanted attention of onlookers and adventurers throughout the city.


	5. Chapter 4

_Sanctum of the Sun_

 _Ghostlands_

An erratic piercing howl filled the red glazed air. The ghoul whined as it separated into two messy pieces of its former humanoid shaped self and writhed on the ground as if it were still ready to fight. The green tiger that assisted in its demise stood over the freshly defeated corpse and snarled as it went in for the final blow. Wind violently sliced across his cheek as an arrow pierced the fallen undead horror and silenced it for good.

The young elf stood firmly with her bow still drawn. She allowed herself the pleasure of relishing in her latest kill by offering a wide grin. Her companion did not share in her ecstatic sentiments as the final shot drew too close for comfort and he expressed this through his furrowed brow.

"Oh, what's the matter Emerald?" The elf teased while lowering her weapon.

She called out to him as he meekly returned to his master. Her hands caressed the gentle fibers of his fur as she expressed both adulation for a job well done and remorse for causing him a bit of dismay.

"You don't trust my aim boy?"

The beast let out a short grunt that sounded more like a cough before closing his eyes and allowing himself to enjoy the brief moments of bliss offered to him by his tender and loving master.

They had been out here battling the horde of undead mobs for the better part of two hours now and Lorelei was just starting to feel the rush of adventure all of those stories of old had teased. There were no training dummies out here. Everything she hit could and would hit back. The only thing she could rely on was her own skill and merit as a warrior and adventurer. This was her true calling. Until today, the young elf had never felt more alive. The blood coursing through her veins and burned with a renewed sense of purpose and she wanted nothing more than to continue this feeling.

Lorelei stood up after giving her pet a more than generous reward before surveying the rest of her surroundings. The sun would be setting within the hour so her time continue was dwindling rapidly. There were no other worthwhile targets in the vicinity. If there were any more undead creatures lurking around these parts they would be concentrated around Deatholme. Conquering that area before the sun set could prove to be a worthy challenge as most of the previously defeated monsters were anything but.

That was the most enticing option presented to the young elf. The second would be to return up the road to the north to Tranquillien and stay at the inn she passed on her way to the Sanctum of the Sun. As the chilling air grazed the unprotected fibers of her skin she could feel the call to battle stirring in her thoughts.

"Com'on Emerald!" Lorelei commanded while racing south.

Her heart began pounding harder and harder with every step she took. Nothing was going to stop her now. She was going to prove herself to be a worthy warrior in her own right without anyone telling her otherwise. The young elf couldn't remember the last time she looked forward to not knowing what lies ahead. It salivated in her mind as she reached the tall gate carved with scourge markings. Her next test awaited her beyond these ominous walls and there was no time to waste.

* * *

 _Raynewood Retreat_

Ashenvale

The calm atmosphere of this opulent green landscape always gave Rayne a sense of tranquility. Gorgeous flowers and ancient trees gave off their delicious scents that seemed to put anyone that walked through them at ease. Even with the looming threat of attacks by the ever encroaching horde, the Cenarion Protectors did a marvelous job of keeping the peace and ensuring these lands would be protected from those that would dare leave a scar upon it.

Shadows began to loom overhead. Bright torches stood proudly along the path to the north leading the paladin towards his final destination. The sun had set some time ago which meant he was already running late. Rayne quickened his pace with simultaneously gripping his goods and wares tightly. The last thing he needed to do was ruin the surprise with an untimely accident.

The path began to wind westward around the bend of a tall plateau. Towards the base of the rise sat a small cottage. It was no more than fifty feet off the main road but couldn't be missed by travelers new or old. The purple roof resembled the leaves standing on high atop the surrounding forest. The entrance itself was carved through a thick tree and provided shade through its thick branches and leaves overlooking a large picnic table. A small dirt path cut through the small blades of perfectly trimmed grass leading towards the big brown door. The house itself was surrounded by large bushes of kingsblood. Its violet colored shrubs complimented the garden and reminded him why he loved coming here.

Rayne walked over to the table outside and slowly started to unload all of the recently acquired goods. He was extra careful not to arouse any suspicion or else it could ruin the surprise but he didn't need to be too cautious. The outwardly crying and cheering of young voices from within the walls provided more than amble cover that even this untrained plate-wearer could easily sneak through.

It only took a few moments to drop everything off but the table was nearly filled to the brim with freshly made Dalaran delicacies. Rayne slowly approached the door as his eyes wandered to the masterly carved sign hanging above. The Raynewood Orphanage gave those who had tragically lost their families a place to call home.

The paladin gave the door two solid knocks. A wave of silence filled the house as its residents became both worried and inquisitive about their newest visitor. Rayne made sure to stay as close as he could away from the windows. He didn't want anyone peeking and potentially ruin the surprise for everyone else; especially that who he had been longing to see for the last two weeks despite it feeling like ages.

"Claudis," a soft voice called from within. "Would you please open the door?"

Every word utters from her lips seemed to travel straight into the paladin's heart and subsequently melt it. Her voice carried like a symphony Rayne could never tire from hearing. It was elegant like the lady of the most noble of houses but still delicate and warm like a mother you did not want to ever leave behind.

Reality quickly slapped him in the face as the door slowly cracked open. The squeaky wine of ancient oak was all too familiar of the place Rayne considered a second home and always dreaded being away for too long. A young draenei child came into view. Though he was no taller than a short-sword, he gave off a mature and commanding presence. That of course all changed when his eyes shot up and caught a glimpse of the man standing before him in glimmering silver and gold armor.

"Hey kids," the paladin smiled.

His warmth poured over them and always seemed to wash away any sadness they may be feeling.

"I'm back."

"Rayne!" Claudis shouted while wrapping the paladin in a tight hug.

Even with his small size and stature, the kid was stronger than he looked. Rayne could feel the clamps of his tightly bound armor bending in the draenei's powerful grip.

More children began swarming out the door. They dove on top of the paladin smothering them with their affection. Rayne made sure to properly hug and greet each and every single one of them. The first of course was Caludis. Though he wasn't the oldest or youngest in the group, there was something about his presence that all of the other children seemed to want to follow. He would make a strong leader someday which was apparent given his lineage. Next was Jihi. Unlike the other draenei Rayne knew, Jihi was very meek and shy. She didn't warm up to new people easily and it took some time before she would even talk to the paladin openly but you wouldn't knew that by looking at the delighted expression she gives every time he visits.

Idina and Kaitlynn were sisters only a year apart but still the oldest of the group rapidly approaching their teenage years. Rayne was actually the one who initially brought them here after finding them abandoned on a recently raided farm in Westfall during one of Rayne's first assignments as a paladin. They were whimpering underneath several bails of hey, obviously hidden by their parents during a raid by the Defias Brotherhood, when he found them all those years ago and couldn't think of a better home for them than right here.

The youngest of the group were Brennen followed closely by Lysa. Brennen's parents were soldiers enlisted in the most recent assault on the Dark Portal. He was staying with his grandmother during their expedition but unfortunately passed away during the war. Sadly, his parents were both lost defending Honor Hold after nearly a year of active duty. His infinite innocence has him still clinging to hope that his parents are still out there despite being told otherwise. Lysa, on the other hand, didn't have too many thoughts of her own being that she was still a toddler. Thankfully no great tragedy involving war or death brought her to this place. She was the product of an illicit affair between a lord and his mistress. As far as she was concerned, this place has always been her home even if her new mother was from a different genetic origin.

And finally there were the most abundant of the group, the night elf children. Most of them were orphans of Ashenvale themselves thanks to some unwarranted and unruly local attacks but they have shown their ancestral maturity by learning to both cope with the loss and striving to be a good influence to others who have gone through the same thing. Meileath, Fyadren, and Nalias were the three boys just about the same age and height of each other. The biggest difference between them were the unique colors and styles of their hair. Meileath's was green and kept it in a short mess across his cheeks and eyes. Fyadren's was blue in mohawk style cut that local night elf guards wore and he idolized them. Finally, Nalias' had his white hair in a simple ponytail similar to the paladin himself. Sometimes, Rayne would catch Nalias rubbing auburn and tan colored leaves into his hair hoping it would work as a dye to be a perfect match.

The three girls, Keeasa, Yerai, and Leathea varied greatly in both age and size. Keesa, the youngest, love to knit and sew while Yerai, the middle child, tended to the garden outside. The eldest, Leathea, was the second in command of the orphanage and was a big help in making sure everyone treated each other with love and respect.

Altogether, this was one perfect little family and Rayne's heart filled with joy each and every moment he got to spend with them. Their collective voices started to drone as one while pelting the paladin with a barrage of questions on top of their ongoing adoration.

"Raymond."

The paladin's heart stopped. Air suddenly tasted sweeter. To hear his name being called by the one he adored with such grace and affection incapacitated every other thought and emotion. Rayne took his eyes off the beloved mob of children and stared deeply into one of the few he allowed to call him by his true name.

Narula Dawngrove was the epitome of class and beauty. Every strand of her amethyst colored hair shined like a chest full priceless gems and complimented the pastel tone of her soft violet skin. Large pointy ears peeked out of her long locks that curved ever so slightly near the tips. Deep wells of silver illuminated the amber-colored irises of her delicate and piercing eyes. Though her height was the same as the enamored paladin standing before her, it was considered shorter than average for members of her proud race. The tight curves of her slim, athletic build was enough to highlight both her radiant beauty and underlying strength. She approached in a small blue dress beneath her ivory colored apron while never looking away from Rayne's hopelessly admiring gaze.

"It's good to see you again Narula," Rayne smiled knowing full well he couldn't hide his rose stained cheeks underneath a full plate mask.

He knew he had to say something to ease the tension. Otherwise, his idiotic gaze would be plastered on his face forever.

"I hope I'm not late for dinner."

"No," she calmly replied with a smile. "You are just in time. I'm still in the middle of my preparation."

Even when Rayne can barely muster a complete sentence she still remained calm and cool. That was one of the many things he admired about her. They had known each other ever since they were kids and spent countless falls, summers, and winters in the company of each other. She was his absolute best friend and closest confidant. In fact, the day he told her his idea to start his own guild, Narula wouldn't allow anyone else join him before she did. There wasn't anyone else in this world Rayne cared for more and every time he saw her he fell deeper and deeper in love.

Unfortunately, no matter how many monsters or demons that stood in his path, nothing frightened the paladin more than attempting to express those feeling to her. The loud thumps of his constantly beating heart would be the only sound she would ever hear in regards to that subject. At least, for the time being.

Rayne had spent enough time drifting in his thoughts. He pushed those sweet memories aside as he continued.

"Perfect! I've actually brought a few things as well."

"Raymond," Narula sighed. Her tone was both appreciative and penitent. "You did not have to do that."

"You're right," smiled the paladin.

He knew full well she was more than capable of handling things here but that didn't mean he couldn't go the extra mile once and a while.

"But I wanted to. Come on kids," he ordered the lot. "There's a lot of stuff out here and I'm going to need all of your help."

"Okay!" The collective group cheered as they followed Rayne's lead.

The paladin began digging through the bags and started handing them individual bread loaves and wheels of cheese. He could see their little mouths beginning to water but that was only the tip of the iceberg. They each marched back towards the door past their sullen but appreciative caretaker as they loaded each of the items in the appropriate shelves according to Leathea's orders.

Last, but certainly not least, were the four large pastry boxes. Rayne carried these personally as he approached the beautiful night elf. Thanks to the wonders of magical transportation, they were still warm to the touch despite traveling from an entirely different continent.

"This is too much," stated Narula. "Please do not fuss over us. Your kindness is more than anyone could ask for."

Her words continued to chip away at his heart. If she continued to show him this much praise he wouldn't be able to stand let alone hold a conversation.

"It's my pleasure. These kids mean the world to me," he grinned which quickly deflated as his lips tightened. He prepared to go the distance today; further than he ever imagined. "And of course… So do you."

"Raymond…"

A delicate hand found its way to his shoulder. The thick plates of armor couldn't keep her velvety tough from penetrating to the deepest core of his being. He was ready to melt right then and there. Thankfully, the weight of the pastry boxes reminded him to steel himself or else there would be a dozen disheartened children watching him clean up a delicious mess.

Rayne set the boxes down on the kitchen counter.

"For after dinner kids," commanded the paladin. "But come outside, I have another surprise for you."

The children eagerly poured out the door, some even pushing past the paladin himself until they surrounded the picnic table where one last box remained. Rayne casually walked over and picked up the titanium toolbox. He knelt down and placed it in front of the admiring mob. With one quick flick, the latch popped open revealing a wonderful assortment of toys and trinkets.

"Here you go Claudis," Rayne started while handing him a remote. "You uncle Findle sends his love."

The bombastic look of sheer joy as the mechanized spider sat boldly in the young boy's hands could not be recreated even by the finest artists in all of Azeroth. Rayne continued to hand out more of the toys and remotes to the rest of the children. Within seconds they were already fiddling with the controls and watching their new toys in wonderment and revelry.

"And this is for you Keesa," Rayne smiled while handing her a few rolls of silk and a small tin box. "I know you don't like all of these toys so I hope you'll have more fun with this."

The little night elf girl nearly came to tears as her tiny arms wrapped around Rayne's neck.

"Thank you Rayne!" She graciously cheered while giving him a small peck on the cheek.

Keesa quickly ran off back into the house eager to work with the fine new materials gifted.

The paladin stood up and watched the children play. Their looks of joy filled Rayne's heart and for a fleeting moment, all of the troubles and outwardly thoughts completely vanished. He would stay here for the rest of his life if he could. That was actually his dream but the paladin knew he had other responsibilities to utilize with his strength and talents. Retirement would just have to wait another day.

"You spoil them Raymond," Narula whispered in a pouty demeanor as she approached. It didn't matter what expression she held, they were always cute and breathtaking.

"With everything else going on," he started looking morose. The sorrow of his words were potent as he continued, "This is all I can do. But I can't say it's not entirely selfish on my part. It's one of the few things I actually get to enjoy anymore."

He watched as her mildly irked expression slowly faded into one of joy. Narula stood just inches away from the paladin and shared in this quiet moment together. The sweet smell of lavender radiated off of every pore. Rayne channeled every fabric of discipline he could muster in order to stop his plate armor from rattling. The serene presence of his beloved was enough to drive anyone mad with desire. Thankfully, the palliative restraint taught to him by his paladin mentors allowed him to steel his resolve and remain calm even through the most arduous of trails.

"Oh," Rayne said quickly diverting attention away from her radiant presence once more. "I have one more surprise for you kids."

The children slowly stopped what they were doing and stared at the mighty paladin. He flicked his wrist up and revealed a small compartment buried within his gauntlet housing a small cylindrical chamber. Rayne procured a multi-colored cartridge from his belt and loaded it into the housing unit. He pressed the chamber down securing the carefully loaded explosive round. The paladin shot his arm high into the air and watched as the kids stared intently at his dramatic pose. With one flick of his wrist, the chamber popped open and the rocket whizzed high above. It exploded with a powerful impact that lit up the sky into a beautiful red haze. Tiny fragments of fading gunpowder rained down over them before evaporating into the night's air.

An uproarious applause soon followed along with pleads to perform the same feat once more. As much as he wanted to continue, there was much work still left to be done.

"Alright everyone, don't have too much fun out here," Rayne ordered. "Sit tight while I go inside and help with dinner. If you guys are especially good, I'll make your favorite Dalaran style grilled cheese."

The words were met with unanimous appraise. There was too much cheese and bread to go around that even if they weren't on their best behavior, grilled cheese would still be served to one and all. The paladin left the kids with a smile as he made his way back towards the cottage with Narula following not too closely behind.

"Oh, one more thing Narula," Rayne began. Even saying her name brought shivers to his spine.

He pulled out the hefty coin sack he received earlier and presented it to the night elf.

"Please, I want you to have this."

Narula drew a gasp and elegantly covered her wide mouth with the slender touch of her hand.

"Raymond, this is far too much. I have more than enough resources to keep us going."

"I know," Rayne nodded. "But maybe we can use this to help out some more. These kids deserve it. With everything they've been through, it's the least I can do. Perhaps we could extend the house a little bit and give everyone their own rooms. Or build a school at the base of the hill. I know a lot of woodworkers who do fantastic work and would love –"

His words were silenced the tender touch of her velvet lips brushing across his cheek. The electricity coursing through his body could have shocked the dead back to life. His heart pounded hard enough to flatten mountains. Before he could even stammer and stuttering reply, Narula pulled herself away and gave the paladin and glorious smile.

"You are too kind Raymond. Thank you very much," she bowed.

The moment of bliss was still parading around Rayne's thoughts. Every second he looked into her eyes begged him to draw her into a powerful embrace and never let her go. Sadly, he had to continue to lock away his feelings. If he were a stronger man this would be an easy mountain to climb. Unfortunately for the paladin, he lacked the power to pursue what he truly wanted in life but he wouldn't let that stop him from at least trying to trek down that path.

"Phew," Rayne exhaled breaking the uneasy tension filling the room. "I should probably get out of this heavy armor before cooking. Is there any place I can change?"

Narula nodded.

"Please use my bedroom. If there is anything else you need, I'll be right out here."

Rayne thanked the night elf and began snapping off the tight straps binding his armor together as he walked towards the bedroom. The thought of her asking him to help doff his armor did cross his mind but coupled with being in the very room she slept in and no viable means to hide his emotions would just spell disaster; especially after that stunt she pulled a minute ago. For now, Rayne decided to enjoy things as they were. There was nothing more he wanted or needed in life. This place was his paradise.


	6. Chapter 5

_Tranquillien_

 _Ghostlands_

Lorelei paced her slow methodical steps under the silver moon light. The small town of Tranquillien was just in view but she felt no rush to get there despite the looming darkness that has set over these lands. There was a resounding sense of peace washing over the path and continued to linger for as far as her eyes could wander. These once defiled lands were plagued by the constant threat of the scourge were now quiet for the first time in a long while. The young elf thought this would bring her an overwhelming sense of pride and happiness. However, there was only thing on the forefront of her conscious.

 _Boring…_

Her initial outing as an adventurer was supposed to be full of blood-pumping adrenaline and a burning desire for glory. Helping her brothers and sisters free themselves from the armies of the dead should have also been the icing on a very delicious cake. Sadly, this was not the case.

Deatholme should have been the ultimate challenge. It was the center of the scourge's commanding presence. She half expected to run with her proverbial tail between her legs just after entering the gates. For years she's heard stories about its dark history centered around the traitor Dar'Khan Drathir and his rebirth the commander of Deatholme and the army of undead at his beck and call.

It had everything Lorelei could have ever wanted. The challenge was great; its mythos and lore even greater. Freeing her siblings from the wrath of their ongoing assault would be the ultimate achievement. This should have been the greatest adventure she had ever taken, and yet, it drew nothing but sadness and remorse. Her emotions were not with her people. They were in a much more selfish place.

The adventure she sought was not as advertised. The massive army of undead were nothing more than a paltry force of small groups scavenging the lands. They were uncoordinated, unfocused, and regrettably pathetic in both combat and stature. Lorelei had arrived with a nearly full quiver of arrows and walked out with more than half of them left. Even Emerald was surprised at how easily the minions of the scourge fell. All it took was one solid tackle from the green beast and it sent their bodies tumbling into heaping piles of bones and rotting flesh.

What made it even worse were the so-called 'lieutenants' of this horrid fortress. There must have been something in the air tonight or maybe they were caught off guard but they dropped just as fast, if not faster, than the minions at their command. The last of which, Drar'Khan himself at least put up a meager resistance before a pair of quickly timed arrows silenced the traitor for good. Either someone had been playing a cruel joke on her by fabricating immense lies about the dangers that lie outside the walls of Silvermoon or all of the constant training she had received turned her into a force to be reckoned with seemingly overnight. Deciding on which truth to lean towards was a source of great frustration for the young elf.

Tranquillien welcomed Lorelei with a pair of lit torches leading her through the town's entrance. Exhaustion started to pour in but it wasn't her body that yearned for rest as much as her mind. She had already traveled beyond the limits placed before her. There was still a whole world of adventure that awaited her. Finding a worthy challenge should not be difficult.

A small smile quickly formed into a wide grin. Lorelei knew exactly where her next challenged lie. Just south of the Ghostlands was the life-deprived area known as the Eastern Plaguelands. Famous for housing the once mighty city of Stratholme, this place become a hive for some of the most sinister and deadly members of the scourge after the culling performed by the soon to be Lich King, Arthas Menethil.

Lorelei started laughing quietly to herself. Her pet looked on with concern as this new side of his master was still taking time getting used to. If she was able to silence the sinister fortress of Deatholme, surely the plaguelands would be the next logical step. All of the rampant undead would have one last night to enjoy freedom before tasting the young elf's kiss of death. Her heart started to feel at ease as the anticipation of this new journey fueled her thoughts. Now she could at least sleep with some content.

Tomorrow would be a brand new day to show Azeroth just what Lorelei Starstrider is truly made of. Her brother would be angry at first upon her return but it was much easier to ask for forgiveness than it was permission. She left Silvermoon a meek archer in training but would return as a new and proud champion. It may take days, weeks, or even months until she felt worthy enough to stand beside him instead of in his shadow. Regardless of the time, this was something she needed to do. Finding your place in this world was the ultimate challenge and that was one quest Lorelei longed to complete above all else.

* * *

 _The Raynewood Orphanage_

 _Ashenvale_

Narula always loved nights in Ashenvale. The gentle light of the high moon cascaded over the lush green land as she sat in piece staring up and the bright silver rock. It presented the perfect image of serenity and tranquility. Out here she could take a moment and meditate on her own thoughts and feelings. Her work as a caretaker and mother to twelve growing children proved to be quite the trial. Every moment spent with them was full of both joy and heartbreaks but she wouldn't give them up for the world. However, sometimes she just needed nights like this to reflect on herself as a woman instead of everything else.

"Well, the kids are all tuckered out," the proud voice of her companion called as he approached.

The paladin plopped down next to her trying to hide his own exhaustion from the night's events despite it being written in bold letters on his face.

"That was a bit much," Narula started. "Giving them all of those sweets."

Rayne waved her concerns away with his shining white grin.

"It's okay to let them enjoy these things once and a while. They could use a morale boost even if it's only covered in sugar. You know, given everything that's going on right now."

The night elf nodded. Neither of them could escape the truth of their situation. There was a war going on. At this very moment, soldiers were waging battles against the massive armies of the undead. They were giving up their lives so that others may enjoy theirs. Surely that would mean more children would be orphaned as a result but they all must remember one key fact. Their parents bravely gave up their lives so that they could still have a world to live in. The children will inherit Azeroth one day and it is their inherent duty to protect it should the need arise.

Those thoughts lead Narula to a few of her own surrounding some personal matters. She gazed at the paladin's hopeful expression. His eyes lingered towards the sky. Each breath he took appeared to be tastier than the last.

"Raymond…" Perhaps a new topic could help alleviate some of her growing concerns. "How has your journey in Northrend been?"

"Oh, you know," laughed Rayne. "It's only been a couple of weeks but things are looking up. I believe we've made some good efforts promoting the Templar Knights. It's only a matter of time before all of the pieces fall into place."

The paladin was always hopefully optimistic. No matter how bad the odds looked, he always came out smiling. That was one of the things Narula admired about him. Although she did have a little bone to pick with him.

"I was a little disheartened you did not ask me to go with you," she teased.

"Eh?! Well, you know - It's because," he stammered.

Watching him become flustered was cute beyond words. Most people knew him as a young man of wealth and dignity with a strong penchant for manners and honor. Few only got to see this side of him. Narula was honored to be included on that list.

"Actually," he started. The words came out much stronger and clearer than before. "Father has asked me to visit him tomorrow."

"Lord Templar?"

That was a surprising request. Narula knew Rayne's father very well. She spent a lot of time playing in his manor when they were growing up. He was very refined but modest. Wealth never went to his head as it did some of his associates. All of his time was dedicated in order to preserve the honor of the Templar name. He was the perfect role model and Rayne was blessed to be the most important person in his life. For him to call Rayne out of the blue like this meant something very important was on the horizon.

"I'm not sure what he wants but he wouldn't ask me to see him unless it was something big. I have a feeling I'm going to need to borrow your strength very soon. If," he paused as if trying to fight through the importance of his next statement, "you're willing to assist me."

The night elf's lips pursed. It slowly grew into a smile. Her shining silver eyes stared deeply into his.

"I will always be here for you Raymond." She could feel his breath trembling once more. That must have made him very happy. What came next might be going a bit overboard. "I am looking forward to the day we can be together again."

Sharp rapid breaths poured from his nostrils. He really could be stern, adorable and capricious at the same time.

They continued to sit in blissful silence for a few more moments. If all their days could be spent like this it would be a blessing to both of them. It may have been selfish but Narula wanted that more than anything. A world without constant wars and fighting seemed like only a dream and yet, sitting here next to her oldest and closest companion it felt like it was right within her grasp.

"I can't explain it but," Rayne boldly broke the silence between them.

The powerful words reverberated off his tongue with tremendous presence.

"I feel like something big is about to happen. I haven't been sure about my purpose for the longest time. Father has given me every opportunity to do whatever I wanted. The first thing I wanted to be was a paladin and now that I've achieved that, I'm not so sure if it's something I want to be any more."

Narula has always been with him throughout every trial and tribulation he's faced thus far. However, she's never once heard him doubt himself so seriously. Rayne was a model of courage. He always put a brave face on despite the situation but even this was unlike she's ever seen him. Her heart slowly started to race as he continued.

"Ever since Arthas fell, people don't look at us the same way anymore. We were supposed to be beacons, incorruptible in virtue or honor. And now…" Rayne began to stammer in his words though not through embarrassment but sorrow. "Now it feels like we're being looked upon as if any one of us could be next. The light does not shine on us as it used to. I mean, I can still feel it strongly in my heart but I don't feel the same strength from those that look within me. It's as if the very light we hold has been corrupted and no matter how hard we try, how many of us rise above..."

Rayne took a deep breath as he finished.

"The stain will never clean."

He was right. Narula was with Rayne when news came of the fall of Lordaeron. When he found out it was Arthas, one of the mightiest paladins that ever lived, he cried for days. This is what Rayne aspired to be throughout his entire life and when he found out that even a paladin could succumb to corruption, it nearly destroyed him right then and there.

In the face of everything that occurred, Rayne continued down the path of the light. Even Narula wasn't sure why. After a few days, he came out of his room one morning no longer looking like he had cried himself to sleep and continued as if nothing had ever happened. That was his inherent strength, perhaps not even known to him at the time or even now. Surviving a fall was easy. Climbing back up with the injuries still lingering was always the real challenge. However, it was something the night elf not only admired but loved about him.

The night elf placed her gentle hand on his shoulder. Without his armor on, she could feel the soft surface of his skin as she slowly started to work her fingers through his muscles. It was tough in some places as if forged in the heart of Dun Morogh. Even with thick layers of metal protecting his body, he still had great strength lying within. Now all he had to do was hear it from the one person would could melt away all of his fears, sorrow, and anxiety.

"Nothing worth having ever comes easy." Narula's words came out like a soft melody that hymned into the night's sky. "The path you are on is not one many would traverse. There will be a lot of challenges put in front of you. It is not about the amount of pain you suffer through. It is about the resolve you have to continue the fight until the very last breath has left your lungs."

She could see her words started to take effect. Rayne no longer looked as morose or sullen as he did just a few moments ago. It didn't take a trinket, scroll or spell to ease his worries. All he needed to hear was the truth.

"I do not think they're looking at you with scorn but rather, fear. Your burden is to combat their expectations. In their hearts, the people yearn to see a champion rise up from tragedy. Most things will bend or break when given enough pressure. Being strong enough to stand your ground and continue down the righteous path is something few try and even fewer succeed."

Narula took a deep breath. There was a lot of wisdom passed down from her ancestors. She was more than happy to share it with her closest companion especially in his time of need.

"I am not sure about any other paladins in your brotherhood but," Narula made sure her next words were both firm and inspiring.

It wasn't something he needed to hear, it's something Narula's been wanting to say to him for the longest time. Tonight was the first time she had that opportunity to share what had been swimming in her heart for years.

"If anyone could redeem the light, it's you Raymond."

The sheer elation he felt nearly exploded out of his heart. She could see the strength returning to his body as her words touched him in the one place no one else had ever bothered to try.

"Thank you Narula," Rayne smiled.

The youthful look of joy in his eyes filled her heart with content.

"You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better. That's why I love coming here and - "

The paladin suddenly stopped halfway looking distressed which was very uncommon given the strength of his previous words. He averted his gaze trying not to start the night elf in the eyes while still keeping her beautiful visage within his peripherals.

"It's getting late," he stuttered quickly returning to his usual self. "Perhaps we should go inside and check on the kids?"

A soft weight fell on Rayne's body. Narula rested her head comfortably across the broad width of his shoulder. Shimmering strands of violet hair rested comfortably along his chest and back. Her delightful fragrance was incredibly potent at this range given the velvet texture of her head was only inches from his face.

"Let's stay like this for a little while longer, okay?"

Rayne nodded nearly convulsing into a parade of joy. His body cried out to him to take her in his hands and press their lips together and bathe in each other's warmth until the sun came up. This felt like the perfect time to tell her exactly how he felt. There was no one else on this planet that he wanted to be closer to in this day and to his last day. She was the perfect creature; a being of pure warmth, ecstasy, and bliss. The way her chest slowly pressed against his ribs with each sweet breath she took nearly drove Rayne over the edge. Even with this magnificent woman laying atop him now, the paladin did not waver.

His resolve was uncanny. Thought he desperately wished for their relationship to progress to the next level, Rayne was content with the way things were now. Happiness was hard to find for most and yet he lived in an abundance of it and he wanted to make sure not to take anything for granted. After all, there's no telling what the future may hold or what fate may have in store for him next.

* * *

 _Thalassian Pass_

 _Ghostlands_

Golden rays of light beamed upon the tall mountains surrounding the narrow path. Lorelei felt its gentle warmth growing over the fibers of her exposed skin as she enjoyed the peaceful morning walk. The orange glazed walls lead up to a large finely crafted stone gate ornately carved in fine elven architecture surrounded by four columns. The solid white bars on the portcullis were slightly raised giving the monument the look of a demonic creature with its mouth open to swallow adventurers who dared to pass.

A purple flag sat calmly off to the side of the trail. It bore the markings of death and decay on its banner. The large skull ominously sitting atop the pole meant this was not the symbol of their allies, the Foresaken, but the battle standard of the scourge and their leader Arthas Menethil. He soiled these lands with his presence many years ago and even though he sits atop his throne as the newly crowned Lich King on a new continent, his horrible aura still lingers.

The young elf knew why none of her brethren dared to remove this flag. It wasn't to honor the traitor Arthas in any way; it was to serve as a warning. Beyond this gate lies the scarred region known as the Eastern Plaguelands. What was once the proud farmlands of Lordaeron were now decayed and devoid of all life. The scourge has a strong presence there, especially in the ever burning city of Startholme. If Lorelei couldn't get her fill with the small fry outside, than at least there was a worthy challenge awaiting her nearby.

"Let's go Emerald," the elf ordered as she picked up the pace and jogged through the immense structure. The sweet morning dew lingered for just a brief moment longer before her nostrils were filled with the horrid burning singe of befouled soil. A large shadow began to grown beneath her feet as Lorelei continued down the trail. The bright rays of the sun faded into the cold grey clouds above. Humidity was growing and the chance of rain immediately swelled into the elf's thoughts as she trotted down the pass at an increased pace.

Her heart began to race. It was getting closer now. This is exactly what she was looking for. The stage was set. There was a brand new journey waiting for its heroine to appear. She increased her pace to a full sprint. Adventure could not get here soon enough.


	7. Chapter 6

_Light's Hope Chapel_

 _Eastern Plaguelands_

A slow droning roar exited the paladin's throat. Though he had awoken a little over an hour ago, sleep still clawed at his body begging him to succumb. Rayne had a little more trouble getting to bed than he originally anticipated. Given the events that transpired that evening, it was painfully obvious what ideas were swimming in his head the entire time. As much as he desired to slumber wrapped in the arms of his beloved, the cold hardwood floor of the orphanage proved to be an adequate second choice; though it was never lonely. Eventually the children woke up in the middle of the night and slowly found their way to his side. By the time he woke up, the paladin was surrounded by the view of their serene and still sleeping faces. It was one of his favorite things about visiting them and worth the sacrifice of a few hours' sleep every time.

"Hey boss," the paladin's energetic companion called to him.

Rayne glanced over at him and noticed he looked as bright as ever. It irked at him that Cayden probably got a full night's rest unimpeded or interrupted.

"Yes, Cayden?" Rayne asked while stifling another yawn from creeping out of his throat.

"Does Narula really take care of all of those kids by herself?"

The paladin could hardly keep himself from smiling at that thought.

"That's one of her many strengths."

That was an understatement. Narula was an orphan as well. It's been long rumored that she may have been the first night elf to travel to the Eastern Kingdoms though the incredible feat is not without tragedy. She lost her parents on the journey and was found on the shores of Lordaeron cold, sick and nearing death. A local farmer was the first to find her and thankfully was also the owner of the town's orphanage. She met Rayne not long afterwards which still remains one of his favorite memories.

"That must be tough," the mage sighed. "How does she find time to train or hone her skills when she's so busy with her work?"

He made a good point but given his tenure with the Templar Knights, it was understandable that he was ignorant in that regard. Cayden had only seen Narula once before this morning and never had the privilege of going on a mission with her. The paladin giggled quietly much to the surprise of his companion. Perhaps he might get that experience sooner than later.

"I'm sure she's fine the way she is."

"Is that so?" Pondered the mage.

The vague answers of his respected leader led him to a slight divergence in subjects.

"So, how long have you been in love with Narula?"

Rayne's heart stopped. He nearly tripped over his own feet as the sudden shock of hearing those words out loud shaved years off his still young life.

"How did you – "

"It was painfully obvious," Cayden replied.

His tone was neither surprised nor condescending.

"I've only seen you guys together twice but the way you act around her in private is different than the rest of the Knights. When I arrived at the cottage to pick you up this morning, you were grinning a lot wider that I have previously witnessed. Then there was that goodbye where you lingered at the door for over forty-five seconds after she was out of view after fifteen. Pooling the evidence together made the conclusion that much simpler."

The paladin began to sulk. He should have known Cayden would figure it out sooner or later. The mage had a much more intriguing history than some of the other members of their organization. It was his aptitude for research and deductive mindset that enticed Rayne to ask him to join the Templar Knights in the first place.

"Things are a little _complicated_ between us right now so… I would appreciate your discretion on this," begged the paladin.

"Roger that," the mage acknowledged. "It's not like it's a major matter of concern. I just wanted to verify my hypothesis."

"You're dedication to the craft is admirable," Rayne laughed.

 _And a little relentless_ he thought to himself.

They continued down the auburn stained path in silence. A pair of black banners soon greeted them on opposite sides of the trail. The familiar starburst shaped emblem in the center filled Rayne's heart with warmth has they were about to enter the main base of operations for the Argent Dawn. It was on these lands that the noble Tirion Fordring and his champions squared off against the Lich King himself. Through the cleansing of the Corrupted Ashbringer, Tirion drove back the vile Scourge Overlord and defended these sacred grounds from his plagued tyranny once and for all.

Each step Rayne took into these holy grounds carried a weight of remorse. He wished he could have been here alongside the other champions and defenders of the light but the battle had taken place during his initial voyage to Northrend. Once word reached about the famed Battle of Light's Hope Chapel, the paladin was already knee deep in the snowy foothold of Borean Tundra. Fate must have kept him away from this encounter in order to prepare him for something even greater. That is what he wanted to believe anyways. His father's desire to meet him here would prove that one way or another.

The glorious ancient chapel was quickly coming into view. Years of wallowing in this barren wasteland had done significant damage to the outer walls. It carried a slight orange haze much like the color of the ground it stood upon though some traces of the original bright stonework could still be seen hiding within. A small contingent force of Argent Dawn soldiers stood proudly near the gates. Even after the threat of the ultimate evil has passed, they still stood their ground as if danger was approaching at any second. That was their inherent strength as both soldiers and defenders of the light.

Rayne's heart began swimming with joy as he spotted a familiar face. The night elf standing near the entrance wore an elegant dress that bore all of the most incredible colors of a ravishing and lush garden. Her long green hair shot out like a beam of light drawing forth the beauty of nature all along her elegantly simple exquisiteness.

"Auntie Rayne!" The paladin called as he ran to greet her.

He locked his arms around her in a powerful hug and buried his head along the soft curves of her neck. She was nearly a foot taller than he was but no matter how tall she was, there was no one on Azeroth she knew of that had a bigger heart.

"I'm so happy to see you."

"Raymond…!" She gasped over his sudden burst of emotion.

Her arms slowly found their way across the smooth hide of his armor as they shared a warm embrace across this otherwise cold land.

The paladin pulled himself back while still standing in her glowing presence. He looked deep within her silver eyes and could see traces of beauty that reminded him of a certain someone. Their similarities were obvious but still subtle in some ways.

"I couldn't believe it when the news came of the battle. I'm happy to hear you're alright. How have you been?"

"I'm doing well Raymond," she smiled. "Things have been quite busy after the battle. Thank the light Lord Tirion arrived when he did. If it weren't for his courage and strength, I'm not sure if we'd still be having this conversation."

Her dreaded words sent a shiver down the paladin's spine. Rayne didn't even want to fathom what could have happened if the battle had come to a different conclusion.

"That's not true," he defended. "With your skills, I bet the minions of the scourge were dropping like flies."

The night elf chuckled at his heartfelt praise.

"You are too kind Raymond. And," she began with a hint of curiosity on her lips, "how have your travels been?"

"Things have been going as expected," Rayne cautiously laughed. It was abundantly apparent that the overall vagueness of his statement was a vain attempt to hide the bitter words of reality. "I couldn't ask for more or less at this point but I'm hopeful about the future."

"Is that so? I'm happy to hear it. Your optimistic nature has always been one of your more desirable traits."

"Really?" The surprise in his tone was profuse.

"Indeed," the night elf nodded. "Though, there are a lot of other things to love as well. I bet all of the girls have been throwing themselves at you."

"You flatter me…" Rayne exhaled. Fortunately, she didn't know the half of it. "If only I had the time for such things."

"But if it were someone special, I'm sure you would make time, right Raymond?"

Electricity coursed through Rayne's spine. He hoped to have buried this conversation back at the trail but the paladin would not be that lucky on this day.

"Oh, she knows too boss?"

The paladin's eyes shot wide as his young companion had unexpectedly made his presence known. Hearing the night elf's words so suddenly sent his emotions into an unbridled sense of shock all of his other senses shut down completely.

"Knows what?"

The puzzled night elf stared at the new visitor with intrigue. Cayden's lips started to move but only an exasperated cough exited his breath as the paladin gave him a not so gentle nudge in the ribs. Rayne hoped that was enough of a reminder of their previous conversation without looking too obvious.

"My apologies auntie," Rayne laughed. "Allow me to introduce you to the youngest member of the Templar Knights. This is Cayden Melton, he's a recently graduated mage studying under the Kirin Tor in Dalaran. Cayden, this is Rayne Feathersong. She's a member of the Argent Dawn and also Narula's aunt."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she replied.

"I as well," Cayden finished. His brow furrowed while pondering a new query. "Wait, your name is Rayne too?"

"Yes."

The mage looked at the paladin for a moment and then at the night elf. He returned his gaze back to his leader with a raised eyebrow.

"There's got to be some kind of story to this, right?"

The night elf nodded.

"It was after the third war had ended. My people allowed us to volunteer to assist the Alliance. I traveled here in the hopes of finding my brother, Narula's father, after he and his wife and daughter left Hyjal about ten years prior. Unfortunately, he and his wife had already passed but I did learn that their daughter was still alive. When I finally found her, she was with Raymond playing on the Templar estate grounds."

"Back then father insisted I keep myself formal so I introduced myself properly as I was always taught," Rayne commented. "I had never seen another night elf other than Narula so I was excited, even as a teenager when she showed up. As she approached, I did what any gentlemen would and gave her my full name, Raymond Nigel Templar. I'll never forget what she said next."

"Wow," the night elf smiled. "We have similar names. I am called Rayne Feathersong."

"I thought she was playing a trick on me," the paladin interjected. "After she explained it, it made a lot of sense."

"When you take the initial letters of his first and middle name, it sounds just like mine. As soon as I told him that, his face lit up and he started asking all sorts of questions about the origins of the name and where I came from. I've never seen someone so enamored with the history of another. By the end of our conversation, he asked his father if he could change his name to Rayne permanently."

"Of course I couldn't but I was a rebellious teenager, what can I say?" The paladin chuckled.

"I understood his father's concern. I explained to him that there is a lot of honor in a name given to you by those you respect so you should do them the honor of carrying it proudly. Raymond eventually agreed but he still liked the idea of being called Rayne. So instead, I suggested he use it as a nickname. He loved it and the rest, as you humans would say, is history."

"Interesting," the mage contemplated. "When we first met, after you introduced yourself you begged me not to call you by your real name. Why is that?"

"Actually," Rayne began but was promptly interrupted by the night elf.

"That is because I told him if Rayne is the name he loved so much, he should let only those he truly loved call him by his real name. Letting someone into the most sacred parts of your life is the ultimate honor you can bestow upon them."

"Oh, makes sense," Cayden's words trailed off a bit before his rage started to take hold of his conscious. "What the hell?! Are you saying we're not friends anymore?! Am I just a taxi service?!"

"Calm down Cayden," pleaded the paladin. "It's not like that. I've been using it for so long, I tend to forget what my real name is sometimes. You know how it is when you get into a routine, right?"

"It was especially confusing during our time together when he trained to become a paladin."

"You trained with the Argent Dawn Rayne?" The genuine surprise in Cayden's voice assured the paladin the storm had quickly left port.

"That's right," Rayne nodded. "She had just joined the Argent Dawn and offered to assist the organization with training and recruitment. Having Rayne on our side helped ease some of the other night elves into joined and helped bolster the ranks quite a bit."

"Though, Raymond was a model trainee, he could be defiant at times as well. He always had a habit of dining with the officers instead of the recruits and trainees despite being scolded several times by his instructors."

"I'm a creature of habit," smiled Rayne. "It was the first time I had ever been away from home. Auntie Rayne looked after and took great care of me while I went through the trials."

"It was the least I could do after everything you and your father did for my niece."

"Hmm," the mage thought. "I'm learning a lot of new things about you today boss."

"And your new hypothesis is?" The paladin forced a smile through the cringe in his brow knowing full well that he may not like the results of this analysis.

"That you liked to be called by a girl's name."

"Is there something wrong with the name Rayne?"

Lightning exploded in the silver eyes of the night elf. Peering through her delicate smile revealed a powerful torrent of anger that was teetering on the edge of eruption. Though she carried the demeanor of a noble and warm night elf, Rayne Feathersong had a fire burning in her that not even Cayden could rival. Apparently, he had accidentally found one of her buttons.

"No –not at all," the mage stuttered. He quickly turned to his superior and whispered, "She can be pretty mean when she wants to, eh boss?"

"You don't know the half of it," Rayne silently confirmed. "Who do you think scolded me all of those times during my training?"

"Raymond!"

The paladin turned towards the one calling out to him. Standing at the doorway was an elder man draped in a robe made fine white and red linens. A belt appeared to be forgedout of solid gold wrapped around his waist. His scalp was devoid of all hair but he still carried a prominent and thick white beard across his neck and face. Wrinkles were prominent from all areas of his exposed skin but even old age didn't appear to slow down the Lord of Templar Manor.

"Father!" He called back. "Excuse me auntie, Cayden," he said while running towards the elderly gentleman. He took a knee while placing a tight fist over his heart. "I'm glad to see that you are doing well."

"It's only been a month since we saw each other last," Nigel Templar replied. "Surely you aren't feeling nostalgic already."

"I know but with the way things are," Rayne stood up as his words trailed leading to an uncomfortable laugh.

"Is this another crack about my age boy?!"

"No no no!" Defended the paladin. He waved his arms back and forth desperately hoping he did not come off as bad as it sounded coming back. "It's just that, a lot has happened during my journey and it's nice to see that some things haven't changed."

His father took a deep breath. As long as Rayne's known him, he was as stern as they come. Nigel Templar was unrelenting as a businessman and father. Whether it came to coin or passing down wisdom, the elder Templar was equally indomitable in both fields. He made his fortune during the original orcish invasion of Azeroth. Nigel brought together scattered groups of farmers, blacksmiths, and laborers into a single collective group to supply and aid the efforts of the human defense with weapons, armor and workers. Before then, everyone worked for themselves without thinking of their neighbors. He was the first to unite them all into a collective agreement that sought not only the preservation of their professions but also the perseverance of their people. Since then, the Templar family has supplied Lordaeron's armies with the tools they need to protect their beloved home.

"Well, I'm happy to see you still have some vigor in you. Welcome back my Raymond."

"It's good to be back father. Tell me," Rayne started. He held back a bit which wasn't unusual while conversing with his namesake. "Why did you call me out here?"

"Come inside and have a seat," ordered Nigel. "There is lots to discuss."

Rayne followed his father into the cathedral. The baroque sculptures and decorations that hug from the walls gave the paladin a sense of wistfulness. He hadn't seen imagery such as this since he completed his training and being in the presence of such a holy building overwhelmed his emotions with honor and pride.

The elder Templar directed the paladin to a small desk with chairs on opposing sides. Atop the desk sat a single scroll wrapped tightly in a fine blue ribbon. It was bound to a golden pin depicting the image of a lion's head.

"Sit."

Rayne followed the commands of his father without hesitation. He quickly found his place on the chair opposite of his father while Nigel took a bit longer getting to his place. There was no stopping the clock no matter how intelligent or Nobel your heart may be. Old age will get to everyone eventually and even though Rayne had never seen his father with a colored hair on his body, it still pained him to watch his father slowly deteriorate.

"This is a royal decree," Nigel began. "I had reached out to King Varian just before your expedition to Northrend. I informed him of your new organization the Templar Knights and how he brought together some of the finest champions in all of Azeroth to create the most elite squad of warriors ever assembled. My intentions were to win favor with the king so he may utilize our other resources beyond supplying his army with weapons and armor. However," the old man stopped.

The tension in the room grew tenfold. Rayne could feel his throat drying as the look of disdain on his father's face became overwhelmingly apparent.

"That option may no longer be available," Nigel stated.

He rose from his chair and stared outwardly toward the closest window.

"I have done everything I could for you. I provided shelter, food in your belly, and a safe home beyond that of which can be afforded to anyone else. When you requested to train as I knight, I brought in the finest teachers in all of the Eastern Kingdoms. When you desired to become a paladin, I bartered and begged through every channel at my disposal so that you may be selected for the trails. I have made a lot of tough decisions surrounding your life; some of which you were not even ready to make yourself even now. I sacrificed, sweat, and even bled so that you can achieve your dreams and the bright destiny that stands before you. And finally, when you asked to take our family name to create something to call your own, I used every resource imaginable to assist you in selecting the finest group to bear our banner."

Nigel took a deep breath. The sorrow clouding between them nearly turned the entire chapel black. With each passing second, Rayne could feel him sinking deeper and deeper into regret. He never wanted to hurt his father especially after everything he's done. However, there are always unfortunate consequences to your actions no matter how noble you may think they are.

"I thought this would be easy. I thought within the first night my doors would be constantly shaking from the amount of visitors hounding me requesting the services of the Templar Knights. Alas, it appears that is not the case."

The elder Templar turned and faced the paladin. Through his dark brown eyes Rayne could see the seriousness piercing through his soul.

"The letters did come Raymond. But they were not what I had hoped nor what I would have expected in a thousand years. The Templar Knights have become a laughing stock; the running joke of the Valiance Expedition. They have become synonymous with the word failure. Any mission they undertake, even a simple escort request is not without a string of blunders. I gave you so many options to ensure this wouldn't happen and yet, you consort yourselves with buffoons, clowns, and degenerates. In fact, the one person in your lot that I actually commended you for inviting you left behind entirely."

The weight of reality did not slam on the paladin all at once. It slowly pored over him and continued to grind deeper and deeper into the fabric of his being before completely enveloping his conscious and filling him with sorrow.

"I had hoped everything I provided, be it money, shelter, or wisdom would have inspired you to become something greater than even you yourself could imagine. Everyone I have talked to, even your prior trainers like Rayne outside are baffled that things have gone this poorly for you. I never dreamed I would be having this conversation with you of all people but it pains me to carry on."

Nigel reached for the scroll on the table and carefully opened it. He put aside the ribbon and pin and handed Rayne the rolled parchment as he continued.

"This is a request from King Varian himself. He is putting together a mass of soldiers and adventurers alike for a large undertaking. It appears the Horde have laid claim to a large plot of land in the center of Northrend known as Wintergrasp. His intelligence teams have discovered that there appears to be a large cache of weapons and armor hidden within a vault at the base of a mountain. Previous efforts to seize the fort have been met with gross failure but now the Valiance Expedition are attempting a new strategy and are requesting the aid of all champions and adventurers alike. The siege begins in ten days."

The paladin soaked up the script written on the pages before him. Most of the details were left vague as his father had described but there appears to be a lot of desperation as well as frustration staining the parchment.

"I, of course, had offered to send you. A fine warrior in his own right and a noble paladin with a list of trainers, teachers, and peers that could verify these claims that no other young knight in the Alliance could dream of. Unfortunately," Nigel stated returning his tone to the somber sound of dread. "The King's ears are burning just as much as my own when it concerns the name _Templar_. Not surprisingly, the King has turned down my request to send the Templar Knights to the Alliance's aid."

Sadness was the dominant thought on Rayne's mind. A thousand words quickly sprang forth to come to his own defense and yet silence continued to fill the room. He didn't deserve to tell his father anything. It wasn't his place. Perhaps had he been honest with him in the first place things could have been a lot different. There was no going back in time now. The only thing Rayne could do was stay the course and hope for the best or take the detour at his father's request and pray the name Templar wasn't sullied beyond recovery.

"However," the elder Templar sounded. His voice piqued with a plume of hope that began to warm Rayne's heart. "I had convinced the King that despite the rumors and stories present on the frozen wastelands, you are more than adequate to join his forces in seizing Wintergrasp. He conceded but not without terms. The king had one condition in mind before allowing your participation."

From within his robe Nigel procures another scroll. It is wrapped in a similar blue cloth as he untied it and handed it to the paladin.

"The King has requested you and your must complete a special mission. It appears the vykrul threat on the shores of Howling Fjord have grown increasingly dire as the days continue. New troops and adventurers alike are overwhelmed by their size and surmountable strength. In order to continue to funnel soldiers into the southeastern port of Northrend they need to do something drastic. The only way to achieve this is by killing the leader of the Dragonflayer Clan, King Ymiron atop his throne in Utgarde Pinnacle."

The chilling touch of dread coursed through Rayne's spine. He had heard plenty of rumors of the dreaded citadel known as Utgarde Keep. Hundreds have entered but less than a handful had lived to tell the tale. The stories they spoke of were filled with unimaginable horrors the likes of which many had never dared to even dream.

"As proof of your achievement, the King has requested you need not bring Ymiron's head, but rather, a special weapon rumored to be in his possession and deliver it to Arcanist Braedin in the Silver Enclave. It is a mighty blade known as the Red Sword of Courage. Rumors speak that the wielder of this weapon can overcome insurmountable odds without wavering. As a paladin yourself, a sword such as that would be very attractive to add to your personal arsenal."

"But father," Rayne spoke breaking his streak of silence within this chapel for the very first time.

He could feel his lips quivering slightly. The fear in which he felt was not about the task at hand but rather, the statement made by his father. Rayne loved his mace. It was a symbolic weapon for a paladin. He could bring down the swift hammer of justice and vanquish hordes of the undead without blinking an eye. This wasn't about his choice of weapon. The thought of replacing his trusted hammer for the likes of a sword made him want to vomit.

Rayne wasn't afraid to wield the weapon. His initial training as a warrior and knight began with one in his tiny arms and many paladins in their time had used blades over the course of history. This soon changed as the last paladin to carry a sword was Arthas Menethil. No one dared to follow in his steps. Paladins across every corner of Azeroth began sheathing them permanently as the symbol of Arthas' betrayal became too much of a burden anyone to carry. Even if Tirion Fordring, arguably the most noble in their lot, carries the purified Ashbringer amongst his possessions, Rayne couldn't find the courage to follow in his footsteps.

"This isn't the time to be indecisive Raymond," his father pleaded. "When you came to me asking for my permission to take my name and found the Templar Knights I gave you not only my blessing but the resources to make your vision a reality. It is time for you to find your own place in this world. This could be your last chance to achieve this dream. I do not want to see you squander it."

The air grew thin and cold. His father was absolutely right. Rayne had been waiting for an opportune moment to arise. It was unfortunate that it may very well be his last to prove that Nigel's efforts were not in vain.

"Even I know the dangers lying inside Utgarde Keep. Everyone that has entered that dreaded fortress has failed. But," he said with a remarkably high level of warmth, "I have faith in you Raymond. I know exactly what you're capable of. You are destined to do great things in this world. That is the one thing I am certain of."

"Then," Rayne began. His voice had deepened. The tone in the room had changed completely. "I will need 200 of our own men to accompany me."

"Two-hundred?!" His father looked at him as if he had murlocs crawling out of his ears. "That's ten percent of our fighting force. Are you sure you need that many to defeat King Ymiron?"

The paladin nodded.

"It is a vital step in my plan. Please father," Rayne sighed reverting back to his usual warmer self. "This is the last thing I will ever ask of you. I swear it."

Throughout all his years of training, Rayne had learned to use many weapons. He had mastered nearly every tool imaginable designed to subdue or even kill his enemies. However, the most powerful weapon he wielded in his massive arsenal was sincerity. There was no running away from the gentle and genuine personality. His father knew this more than anyone else.

"I will make the arrangements. Our soldiers will leave out of Menethil Harbor in two days. They should arrive in Valgarde by morning on the third day. Please make the necessary arrangements by then."

The paladin jumped up from his seat and bowed his head. This posed to be a huge risk for both of them. Their reputations were on the line. Nigel was banking everything the Templar name stood for on the paladin's final request. This was the ultimate gift. Rayne promised not to squander it.

"Thank you father."

"My pleasure Raymond," the elder Templar replied. "I also have one last thing to give you."

Rayne followed his father as they exited the chapel through the back door. They walked through the decaying shrubs and foliage to the northern edge of the grove. A pair of horse stables appeared before them. One of them was empty but the sight of the second gave the paladin a rush of joy.

"Icarus!"

The paladin immediately clasped his former steed in his hands as the brilliant white horse shared in his jubilant enthusiasm. This was a gift from his father as a reward for successfully completing the trials. Nigel had always said a paladin needs a good horse to separate himself from that of any other warrior. The barding on Icarus was adorned with golden plate armor and finely crafted leather straps. It looked as if he were the mount of a king. Rayne had loved Icarus but when the time came to begin the expedition to Northrend, he left his companion at home in favor of a less sentient model.

"Father," the paladin smiled. "You didn't have to do this. Besides, I've already got –"

"That heaping pile of junk?" His father interrupted. "Aren't they still finding parts of it in the snow?"

"So you heard about that?"

"Unfortunately," his father sighed. "Just because I'm old doesn't mean my ears have stopped working. You'll be more likely to get that thing to fly than keeping its parts together on the ground."

This embarrassing conversation was souring what had slowly become a surprisingly pleasant visit. The motorcycle was an ideal choice to bring to Northrend. He did not have to worry about feeding it, succumbing to the frozen temperatures or something even far worse than both of those put together. Rayne was unsure of the dangers when he set off on his journey. He didn't want to risk Icarus' life with the constant threat of death and the unknown looming around every corner. While he still contemplated whether or not to bring his faithful steed along with him, Rayne did feel the itch to take one more ride.

"Thank you again father."

"Good luck Raymond," Nigel nodded. "I look forward to hearing about your first of many successes very soon."

The old man walked away with a bright smile on his face before returning back inside the chapel. Rayne seized the reins and began escorting his steed towards the front of the chapel. Icarus trotted along without reservation as they headed towards a more lively entrance than previously visited. Rayne focused his gaze on the two companions he had left behind. His heart nearly burst with happiness upon seeing one of his oldest friends happily laughing with one of his newest.

"Are you serious?" The mage giggled. "Every time?"

The night elf nodded. She had much better control holding in her amusement but even a few chuckles escaped her otherwise modest composure once and a while.

"What's so funny?" The inquisitive paladin queried.

"It's nothing," Cayden snickered while slowly releasing the grip over his ribs. "Miss Feathersong was just telling me some stories about your training. That's all."

Rayne could feel his mood turning. He already suffered through enough embarrassments today. Another one appears to be already on the horizon.

"Auntie Rayne…" The paladin groaned.

"Nothing serious," she said with a smile protruding on her purple lips. "I was just telling him of one of your old habits."

"By the light," Rayne whispered begging the favor of the sacred element to spare him from further disgrace. Before he could say a single word in his defense, Cayden exploded with a very serious question.

"Did you really used to yell out the name of your techniques as you cast them?!"

The paladin sulked as he stood. There was no getting over the utter shame overwhelming him at this very moment. It was a much different time back then. He thought announcing the names of the sacred skills and abilities would help increase their potency and add a level of intimidation. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

"They it sounded a lot better in my head than in practice," Rayne painfully laughed.

"Though I will admit," the night elf interjected. "The amount of vigor and enthusiasm he showed was unrivaled. As well as he pension for theatrics."

They continued to share in laughter as the paladin tried to desperately bury that mortifying experience. It would have been easier had he been a child but this al occurred before his eighteenth birthday. There was nothing he could say in his defense that would lighten the blow. What made matters worse was that he continued to do it for months without reproach until his fellow paladins in training let him in on the joke.

The mood slowly started to calm down. It lasted a lot longer in Rayne's mind that it did the two giggling over his colorful history. Cayden wiped the tears out of the corners of his eyes which gave the paladin the opportune moment to divert to a new topic.

"Get it all out of your system?"

"Yes sir."

"Good," Rayne stated while handing him a rolled parchment. "We've got a mission. I need you to gather the troops and meet me in Valgarde at sunrise three days from now."

The mage's expression perked up as he began scanning the documents presented.

"Who are you assigning for this quest?"

"Marcus, Weasel, Narula, and you of course."

"Me?!" Cayden jumped in genuine surprise over hearing his name amongst the more senior ranking members of the Templar Knights. "But I've only been with you for a couple of weeks. We've only taken on small scale and simple assignments; nothing on this magnitude. Are you sure –"

The young mage's words were silenced as Rayne placed his heavy hand on his shoulder.

"You weren't invited into the Templar Knights Cayden, you were chosen. I don't put my faith in just anyone. I chose you for a reason and…" The level of seriousness in the paladin's voice was awe-inspiring. "I am going to need your strength now more than ever."

"Y-Yes sir!" Acknowledged Cayden. "It was a pleasure to meet you Ms. Feathersong," he said over his shoulder as the whimsical arcane energies began to dance around his fingertips. An explosion of sound and energy burst forth from his commanding gestures revealing a magical gateway into a familiar magical city.

The mage was halfway in before he realized his superior did not appear to be following him.

"Are you coming boss?"

Rayne shook his head.

"I think I'll take the scenic route," he replied while gently tugging on Icarus' reins. "There are some things I need to prepare in the Eastern Kingdoms to assure our victory. Please give everyone my regards."

"Be careful Raymond," the night elf warned. "I can sense the increased moisture in the air. There is a large storm approaching."

"Perhaps a _divine_ _storm_ even?" Teased Cayden as he took the last step through the portal.

He didn't even relish in the sour expression glazed over the paladin's face as the magical vortex closed. It sealed off the far away continent and mage from view.

Rayne took a deep breath as the weight of what's to come began to envelop his thoughts. Everything he had been working towards throughout his entire life had finally come down to this. There was no place to run or hide. This would either become his big break or last hurrah. Surviving the dreaded Vykrul fortress became an afterthought. The only thing concerning his thoughts was sullying the proud name his father had allowed him to wear upon his banner.

"You are always so stoic when deep in thought," the night elf laughed.

Her words snapped him out of his trance. Reality soon folded over along with a wave of dark clouds looming overhead. They cast a dark shadow over these defiled lands painting them in an even more sinister light than moments prior.

"Thank you Auntie Rayne," the paladin expressed while wrapping her up in another big hug. "It was good to see you again."

"I always welcome the opportunity to visit with you Raymond. Good luck on your journey," she softly said into his ear. They gently pulled away from each other as the night elf sent off the paladin with another bright smile. "Please send my love to Narula and tell her I'll be sure to visit real soon."

The paladin acknowledged her request with another big smile. He couldn't help it. Every time he heard her name being called did wild and wonderful things to his emotions. Rayne climbed upon his horse and snapped the reins gently. Icarus acknowledged his request through a hearty cry and began trot down the clearly laid path.

"Goodbye Auntie," waved Rayne.

The night elf responded in kind as he slowly distanced himself from this sacred area. His next destination was quite a ways away. There were a few stops he could make to expedite the journey but for now the paladin took solace in the fact that he still had plenty of time to enjoy the little things afforded to him once and a while.


	8. Chapter 7

_Farstrider's Square_

 _Silvermoon_

Two gauntleted fists slammed upon the wooden table. The surrounding guards quivered by the might of the blow. Its sound resonated throughout the large halls of the war room. Their armor began to tremble. Whether it was due to the force of the strike or their own fear was still under debate.

"How could you let this happen?"

A pair of soldiers stood timidly in front of their superior. Their heads moped in utter shame as they faced the Ranger-Colonel Jean Starstrider in one of his less than pleasing moods. His large plate armor was masterfully crafted by the finest smiths in Azeroth and unlike any other that resided within these walls. It was mostly black with gold and red trimming throughout the edges and plates. Ancient elven calligraphy was adorned along the flat sections of the breastplate and gauntlets. Two chains casually hung holding seals embedded with imagery of the scales of justice that connected the spaulders to the chest. Light blonde hair carelessly sat across his chest and back as venomous green eyes poured into their souls with great malice.

"You two had one job. Arguably the easiest job within the entire city. Each guard is normally responsible for the safety and wellbeing of thousands of our brothers and sisters on a daily basis. It is a task not to be taken lightly even in times of peace. However," Jean scowled. His fragrant tone quickly dripped with animosity. "You only had to look after one person. This task was appointed to you and you were hand-selected by Ranger-General Halduron Brightwing. It was carefully explained to you the importance of this duty. And yet, you stand before me as aloof as fool after a night of rambunctious drinking without nary a reason no word in defense of your actions?"

The soldiers sank into an even deeper pit of depression. Their eyes slowly met and shared a quick shameful glance before returning to the floor.

"But sir," one started. His lips trembled as he locked eyes with his superior. "We were deceived."

The Colonel stared back at him with a menacing gaze. He shouted at him to speak up clearly as his last words sputtered out of his mouth like a sobbing child.

"She tricked us sir," the other finished.

At least he said it with more bravado than that of his partner. That would be his only saving grace.

"Am I to take it that two of our finest guards in the entire city had been utterly duped and defeated by a young girl that is barely eighteen years of age?!"

His fists slammed the table once more. The increased strength of the blow cracked the flat wooden top. Both guards landed flat on their backsides trembling in terror. Fire began to swell inthe large green pools of odium within the skull of their superior. He then turned to the rest of his troops with the same begrudging look of disgust he shared with the two loathsome creatures on the ground. His tone calmed down slightly as he addressed the other guards.

"It's been almost an entire day since she disappeared and no one has anything to report?"

"We've combed the city thrice over as you commanded Colonel," replied one.

"Local patrols in Eversong did not report seeing anyone that matched Lady Lorelei's description."

"Eversong?!"

Jean's slight moment of patience become overwhelmed by the burning sense of rage spewing from his ignited lips.

"She could be clear across Silverpine by now. Have any of you even bothered contacting our local militia or allies in the surrounding regions?"

The room sat in silence. Their complete failure to overlook the obvious was abundantly clear. It only fueled the elf's engulfing fury.

"If someone does not have anything positive to report by nightfall then the lot of you will be spending the rest of your days tending to the stables and latrines of the plagued farmers in Tirisfal."

Jean gave his soldiers one last powerful look hoping to impress his utter seriousness upon them.

"Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" They collectively shouted.

"Dismissed," he spat while turning his back to them.

They immediately poured out of the room. Their armor snapped and clanked wildly as they nearly toppled each other exiting their commander's office.

The area quickly turned cold. Jean enjoyed the solitude for a moment before clenching his heart. There hadn't been a single day they hadn't spent apart, not a meal they hadn't shared while in the same vicinity since they were born. Jean's brooding anger of the entire situation was dwarfed by the anxiety he felt about simply not knowing. He didn't just love his sister, he adored and cherished her. She was the only family he had left in this cruel world. Everything he had done and sacrificed was for her benefit. To go a day without seeing her beautiful smiling expression was like a thousand blades pressing through his chest.

A knock at the door snapped the blood elf's attention away from his thoughts. He turned and saw his superior, Halduron Brightwing standing in the open doorway. The green and gold colored mail armor was a little more casual than someone befitting his title would wear but Jean was not one to question his superior's choices.

"General Brightwing," Jean saluted. His level of professionalism was unrivaled.

"Colonel Starstrider," Halduron stated returning his subordinates greeting.

The elf's eyes darted towards the rolled parchment in the General's hands. It was wrapped in a crimson colored cloth and the air of seriousness following him into the room was enough to tell Jean this was of great importance.

"How are things Jean? Are you still troubled?"

"Fine sir," he replied. "Nothing to report."

"Can we forgo the formalities? We were friends long before we were soldiers," pleaded Halduron. "I could hear you from my office down the hall. Given the fact that all of your subordinates ran out of here with their tails between their legs, I'd say it's a cause for concern."

The Colonel took a deep breath. The air pushed out of his lungs methodically as if his entire body were changed gears to accommodate the request of one of his oldest friends.

"They still haven't found her," Jean solemnly stated.

"It pains me to hear that," Halduron replied. "I cannot even begin to fathom the agony you are feeling right now. Did she leave any clues to where she might be heading?"

"Lorelei is impulsive and reckless. I knew she desired to seek out adventure on her own but through my own ignorance, I kept her hidden away. It only seemed to breed her rebellious spirit."

Jean's remorse was plentiful. It naturally sank him into deeper bouts of depression.

"She could be anywhere."

"Please do not hesitate to utilize any of our resources on your behalf Jean," said the General as he placed a hand upon his friend's armored shoulder. "I have no doubt Lord Theron would tell you the same. You are a valued soldier and brother. Your sister holds the same place in our hearts as you do."

Jean was never one to take anything for granted. Everything they had received was a gift to be embraced. Even upon his promotion Jean did not ask for any extra gold or special treatment. The only thing he required was a safe place for he and his sister to call home. Lord Theron and General Brightwing were more than accommodating to his request even offering the title of nobility to Lorelei and the subsequent respect and honor that came with it. He couldn't have asked for more. They have a good life. All Jean wanted to do was protect it; now and forever.

"Thank you Halduron."

Using his friend's name must have put the General in a good mood. A smile encroached upon his expression.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Halduron questioned.

"No," the elf stated shaking his head. "I've already called for my steed. I'll search every depth of Azeroth until I find her."

"I'm afraid that will have to wait Jean," the General implored. He handed the scroll to his subordinate. "We have pressing matters to attend to."

"What is this?" Jean replied while carefully examining the rolled parchment. His eyes poured over the instructions as his superior continued.

"Our intelligence has picked up some troubling news. It appears the Alliance are planning to seize one of our footholds in Northrend. We have had no issues keeping it defended but apparently they are increasing their efforts and have begun collecting troops and resources to lay siege to Wintergrasp."

Jean had heard reports about Lake Wintergrasp and the large vault embedded within the mountain. There haven't been any reports of armor, trinkets, or massive piles of gold. However, the denizens lurking within appear to be particularly adept at guarding their inventory since nothing of value has been found yet.

"What does this have to do with me?" The Colonel pondered.

Jean was still reeling from the troubling thoughts about his lost sister to even care about returning to formality at this point. The look in his friend's eyes did not tell him what he wanted to hear. This was just another troubling circumstance falling upon the elf's shoulders. He knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to come next but in the end, it didn't matter. In order to protect this life he fought so hard to obtain, he had to fall in line like a good soldier and do exactly what was expected of him.

* * *

 _Corin's Crossing_

 _Eastern Plaguelands_

Rain poured from every direction far and wide. Explosions of water droned throughout the area filling the air with a stifled rhythmic noise. The soil became sticky and thick. Clumps of mud stuck to the young elf's boots as she desperately ran towards the abandoned town ahead.

"Com'on Emerald!" She pleaded.

Blood poured from his freshly severed wounds along his back and legs. The rain helped thin his essential liquids and expedited their exit from his body. The tiger paced behind his master much slower than she desperately desired. There wasn't an order or command she knew that could get him to move any faster. Luckily they had made it over the short hill and had a much easier time traversing down the slope than up it.

A banshee slowly made its way to the top of the ridge. Her horrid nails dripped with freshly carved crimson juices plucked from a very defiant young tiger. She was continuing to stalk them despite Lorelei's best efforts to impede and distract her from continuing. The young elf threw everything she had and then some at this fearsome foe but her efforts were all in vain. Her loyal pet withstood a single blow from the undead witch's sharp claws before a second sent him reeling. A volley of desperate arrows soon followed but the banshee shrugged them off as if pelted by falling leaves.

The trees trembled in anticipation. A bolt of bright lightning illuminated the darkened land. The following thunder shook the blood elf's nerves and nearly took her off her feet. Fear was a powerful weapon. It didn't help that the banshee was able to take a quick slash at her leg. Thankfully it wasn't deep but the four parallel marks impeded her speed greatly.

 _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_ She cried to herself as she stumbled towards the open path.

Emerald was slowly falling behind once more. The young elf nocked an arrow and vaulted it at the monster. It whizzed harmlessly just past the undead harlot's disgusting face. Lorelei ran towards it in a bold move and seized the tuft of her pet's neck assisting it with a desperate drag as the monster continued to float unhindered towards its target.

The town was less than a dozen yards away. Her wet hair kept flopping across the curves of her soiled face. The added weight of her drenched cloak and armor proved to be a growing hindrance as more of her vital liquids continued to soak this cursed land. Blackness began to fill the corners of her eyes. She could feel herself fading with every bead of water that collided atop her tired frame.

A loud groan exited the tiger's carcass. He collapsed onto the moist ground below. Blood began to soak into the dark orange soil as it helplessly gushed from one of the many wounds across his hide.

"Emerald no!"

Lorelei dropped her bow and flopped herself on top of the fallen body of her beloved pet. From within her cloak she procured a small dagger. Her trainers had given her many lessons with a bow but warned her should it fail her in combat, this was a last resort.

The banshee drew closer. Time seemed to slow down as the young elf felt the darkness surround her. She buried her dirty face within the safety of her arm and pointed the blade at the approaching monster. The futility of her dream engulfed her thoughts. All she wanted to do was prove herself worthy enough to stand alongside her brother. The fact that she was going to die without even telling him goodbye caused more liquid to splash down her face through no assistance of the rain.

Lightning clashed high in the air. The banshee wailed in horror. This was it. Lorelei drew her ever darkening gaze upwards. Her eyes were met with a bold flash of light. It was blinding in power and yet felt surprisingly warm. This must be the sign of death the rumors had been circulating. Lorelei extended her free hand towards it. She didn't want to be in this kind of pain anymore. Closer and closer her fingers inched away clawing at the only source of salvation left.

Darkness soon returned as the light faded from obscurity. Her defeat would not even allow the smoothness of a quick death. Through the last passage of vision she had, a bold figure came into view. It road atop a white steed as the horse reared and howled against the sudden burst of another lightning bolt. The flash of brilliant energy lit up the area once more. Before Lorelei blacked out, she was treated to a brief glimpse of the rider. He had long blonde locks of hair and wore a fine set of shining plate armor. It was oddly familiar in a way.

The young elf felt herself smiling as her eyes closed and unconsciousness took its hold. She was very lucky in a way. Most people saw the damned image of a skeleton wielding a large scythe before she died. Lorelei got to see the one person she desired to be with before she perished.


	9. Chapter 8

_Fairbreeze Village_

Eversong Woods – 12 years ago

The walls of the crudely constructed hut pounded with ferocity. Beasts continued to claw away and the thinly bound timbers of the tiny. Within its short and small walls a girl continued to sob. Her tears poured soaked the rough fibers of her rough linen dress as the fear of death continued to loom.

"Jean," she pleaded through the wall of tears soaking her tiny face.

The girl continued to shout his name over and over again.

Small thin arms wrapped around her entire body. The young boy pressed her head against his chest. She could feel his soothing heartbeat from within his thin shirt. It was serene and rhythmic. Their lives were being threatened at this very moment and yet he was cool, calm, and completely in control.

"Don't worry." His stern voice washed over her.

From underneath the small patch of hey where the slept he procured a long shining blade. It was their greatest possession. This heirloom was passed down from their parents before venturing off to provide assistance to strangers and help them fight in their war. Though their bodies may be gone, the spirit of their will still remained within the essence of this beloved weapon.

"I'll protect you," he declared drawing the weapon forward.

The fine piece of forged steel was just a few inches shorter than the boy who wielded it. He had practiced every day since their parents departed and learned to use this majestic weapon with the skill and strength of any proud elven soldier.

The girl could sense her spirit beginning to float. The warmth of his confidence began to bath over her. As the walls came down and the ferocious beasts came into view she no longer feared for her life. Her brother would never let anything happen to her and she wanted to be by his side more than anything in the world.

* * *

 _Corin's Crossing_

 _Eastern Plaguelands_

The sound of wood cracking tickled the young elf's ears. Something warm was nearby. Her body was naturally drawn towards it but would not respond to any initial commands. Even her eyes were too heavy to open. She laid in the blissful warmth of darkness as her other senses awoken. The distinct char of burnt wood began to dance across her nose. It opened her mind to the scene before her.

Water continued to pour from above though her body felt dry. It beaded off the soft wood high above radiating a welcoming hum that sang to her like a lullaby. A heavy cloth laid atop her body. The carefully stitched fibers felt good against her smooth skin. Her body tucked in closer wrapping more of the beloved sheet around her every curve. The blissful scent of meat being cooked on an open flame opened her mind to a familiar memory which gave her eyes the strength to slowly reveal the world around her.

A small campfire sat no more than a foot away. It was built near the doorway as small coils of grey smoke flew harmlessly into the cloudy sky instead of the decaying roof above their heads. A wire was cleverly hung between the frames of the open door and held a few pieces of fresh meat. Tiny drops of fat flew from the browning flesh and caused the flame to sing a new tune upon their descent.

Her eyes slowly traveled towards the corner of the room. A pair of large brown boots caught her attention and led her gaze upwards. They were attached to a set of muscular legs that rested quietly inside the confines of fine silk pants. Equally thick arms rested calmly across the bent knees with golden locks of blonde hair scattered across the ridged curves of his biceps of shoulders. Her heart began to wildly beat inside her chest as her soft glowing green eyes caught the piercing blue irises of a stranger staring right back at her with a surprisingly bright smile on his face.

"You're awake?" The burly man questioned. "That's good. I was beginning to worry."

Lorelei's nerves went into overdrive. His face was too wide and arms too large to be a blood elf. The fact that no ears could be seen through his shimmering hair was a dead giveaway that Lorelei had been caught in the clutches of a human and their people's sworn enemies, the Alliance.

Fear swept over her. The young elf quickly tossed the cloth over her head and began rifling through her surroundings looking for a weapon. Something was not right about the entire situation. Lorelei was always told the Alliance were merciless with their prisoners and few, if any, lived to tell the tale of their capture. The fact that she was still alive now meant he had something much more sinister in mind. A simple kidnapping plot could easily lead to torture, ransom, or an even greater evil that increased her anxieties tenfold. This fear magnified when she discovered she was no longer wearing her protective mail armor. All of her possessions were gone. This must be a part of his plan which only added to the surmounting tension in this room.

A sudden brush of cold steel snapped her senses into focus. Lorelei's thin hand examined the surface just outside the perimeter of the cloth. Atop the dish she wrapped her fingers around a hard but oddly shaped ball. It was sharp in certain areas but a little light to the touch. This would have to do. It was the only way she could escape this horrid situation.

The cloth exploded upwards as the young elf rose up. She hurled the object straight at the human's skull with a forceful cry. All it would take was one brush up against his eye. Either would do at this point. She just need him to be disoriented for only a moment. That would buy her the time needed to escape.

Terror filled her heart. The tiny brown boulder stopped dead in its tracks just inches away from the human's unarmored face. It rested softly in his clasped hand which slowly lowered revealing a troubling but puzzled expression.

"Aren't you hungry?" He asked raising an eyebrow. "I apologize for the poor quality rations. I didn't expect to camp out today but the meat will be ready real soon so please be patient."

 _What the…?_

Lorelei's anger started to rise. How could he be smiling at her at a time like this? Something stunk about the entire situation. For now he appeared to be harmless. It was in her best interests to at least gain some vital information about him and her situation before proceeding further. At the very least, he appeared to be a formidable opponent if his reflexes were sharp enough to stop her initial surprise attack.

"Who are you?!" She snapped. "Where am I? What is this?"

"Whoa," he begged. "One question at a time."

Her brow furrowed as she clenched the blanket closer to her nose and mouth. Lorelei slowly slid backwards pressing herself against a nearby wall. The warm fire continued to radiate as her captor continued.

"I was just passing through when I noticed a wild banshee giving chase. When I caught up to it, I saw you lying on the ground completely unconscious. I couldn't stand idly by so I took care of the undead minion and brought you inside this abandoned cottage to get out of the rain."

That made a little bit of sense but she still couldn't trust it. It was a laughably simple story that anyone could throw together. His attempts to lull her into a false sense of security were terrible at best. Suddenly a burst of trepidation struck her heart. Something about his story didn't add up. She was not alone while unconscious. Her pet Emerald was with her the entire time. This monster must have finished off her beloved pet and is now trying to casually feed it to her in a gesture of good faith. He was a cunning demon indeed.

"Where is my pet?!" Barked Lorelei.

Tiny wells of water began forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Where is Emerald?!"

"Oh, so that's what his name is?" He laughed.

The human shifted his body slightly and revealed a familiar green tiger lying right next to him soundly asleep.

"Emerald!"

Her heart lifted shattering the fearsome bonds binding it to the horrid scenarios dancing in her mind.

"He was a lot heavier that I thought," he spoke while gently scratching the back of the tiger's large head.

Emerald responded pleasantly by lifting his neck up towards to source of the pleasurable act.

"I was afraid to move him with all of those scratches on his back so after I brought you inside, I tended to his wounds and he was able to walk in on his own."

"You… Helped him?"

The amount of surprise dripping from her lips was thick. Lorelei had already envisioned the worst case scenarios. She never would have dreamed it could have been anything else though her guard hadn't dropped just yet. This too may just be another part of his elaborate plan. She calmed her itching nerves and allowed him to continue speaking.

"I noticed you were wounded as well," he continued taking a small bite out of the previously tossed bread roll. "So after we came back inside, I did what I could."

The young elf's eyes went wide. He was right. She did suffer an injury at the hands of that disgusting banshee. The sheet quickly flew over her head as she surveyed the sight of aforementioned injury. Her heart skipped a beat as the four large scratches against her thigh appeared to have vanished completely as if they only occurred in a dream. Whatever he did must have worked wonders because they didn't even need to be wrapped in bandages. A new realization struck her thoughts with a painful burst as she examined the rest of her body and noticed a lot more of her skin was exposed than she ever dared to show anyone. Only the thinly laid silk undergarments covered her otherwise virgin skin.

"You fiend…"

Scorn bled through the cracks of her teeth. After this grand façade of assisting an injured girl and his companion, she never thought this is what he was truly after. This was it. It had to be. No one would go out of their way for a total stranger unless they wanted something in return. In this case, it was her soft, delicate and young body he desired and if she didn't awaken in time he may have already had his way with her. That is, if he hadn't done so already.

"You would dare sully my body with your bare hands?!"

"Come again?"

There was a somewhat genuine look of innocence on his face when he responded but the young elf would not be fooled.

"You stripped me naked? Why?! So you can have a taste at an exotic creature? Is that what this is all about?!"

"What are you talking about?" He sighed. "You were soaking wet when I found you. I took off your armor so you wouldn't catch a cold. I didn't see anything I swear."

"Liar!" She snapped.

The ferocity of her words fueled her defense.

"How could you remove my clothing without seeing my body?"

The human simply responded by pointing just a few feet south of where she sat. A pile of thick metal armor was placed in an organized fashion. The line drawn from his finger stopped at an unusual looking pair of glasses. They were reinforced with thick pieces of metal and had a faint yellow glow shining off the lenses.

"Those are my engineering goggles. You can twist the lens caps and adjust the settings depending on the environment you're working with. They can zoom in, provide shading, or even detect the heat of other people and animals."

Lorelei slowly grasped the goggles. They were a lot heavier than they looked. The leather straps were still a little wet to the touch and had adjustable settings depending on the size of one's head. She could already tell this wouldn't fit around her much smaller skull so instead she pressed the lenses towards her eyes. The viewfinder revealed a cold world completely washed by shades of blue. In the center, a vague silhouette of the human and her sleeping pet came into shape. It changed colors from green along the edges to dark red towards the center. He appeared to be telling the truth as she could hardly see any details other than the rough edges of his skin and muscles. The fact that this was the last setting on the goggles cemented his story.

This technology was baffling to the young elf. She'd never seen anything like it despite there being a large engineering facility in Silvermoon. An opportunity like this may never present itself again. She began to fiddle with the settings. Each turn landed on a soft click and revealed an entirely new world to her. The world shifted from a sea of blue to a light sepia tone. This must have been the shade setting he had mentioned. A smile slowly began to take shape on her tiny pink lips as she continued to click away at this new portal presented to her.

The last setting she landed on forced her eyes wide. Their surroundings looked normal as if they hadn't changed at all but the human was different. His clothes had suddenly disappeared revealing a bulk of tight muscles across every inch of his skin. He was a lot bigger than she realized; not tight and slender like her brothers and sisters. This indecent setting painted a picture she never thought would fall before her but despite her best efforts, she couldn't look away.

"Are you feeling sick? Your face is all red."

His words brought attention to the warm blood began to pool in her cheeks. His innocent question snapped her gaze towards his eyes. She tossed the goggles aside and pressed the cloth closer towards her face hoping to stifle her embarrassing expression.

"Why…?" She whimpered.

The words were masked within the protective warmth of the cloth blanket she had come to rely upon.

"Why did you help me?"

The tone became somber between them. She did know how things worked south of Quel'Thalas but with the elves, it was survival of the fittest. If you couldn't work, you couldn't eat. Their society thrived on a collective group putting forth their best effort in order to ensure the prosperity of their people as a whole. No one was willing to lend a hand to the weak. That was the rough lesson she was taught at a very young age. Someone offering their aid would never do so without wanting something in return.

"Why?"

He laughed as if completely baffled by the question. It only seemed to draw more of her ire. It appears her brief moment sincerity seemed foolish in his eyes.

"My father taught me to always help those in need. I have been afforded a lot of blessings in my life. It is my duty as a paladin, as a knight, and as a man to support those that cannot help themselves."

 _A paladin…_ Her thoughts trailed. _He's just like Jean._

"Besides, it's not every day you get to see a beautiful elf in these parts. I figured you'd have quite a story to tell so I wanted to make sure I was around to hear it."

More blood began to swell in her cheeks. He was not only noble but a flatterer as well. There was definitely more to this creature than meets the eye. In only the brief moments they shared together, he had gone from a vicious captor to a gallant hero. Lorelei began to sulk. She had been so nasty to him in the beginning it started to eat away at her. Even if her suspicious were justified, they did not mirror his actions in the slightest. The least she could do now is show him a bit of courtesy and introduce herself.

"Lorelei…" She whispered attempting to muster the courage to face him on equal terms.

"Hmm?"

"My name..." Her confidence had slowly returned. "It's Lorelei. Lorelei Starstrider."

"Lorelei?" He pondered. "That's a very lovely name. It suits you."

Thoughts started running wild. Her emotions could not keep up with the constant barrage of feelings pouring through her heart. She was a proud and noble elf. Her brother was second in command of the Silvermoon Guard. However, being in his presence caused changes in her she had yet to experience in her short life.

"It's an absolute pleasure to meet you Lorelei. My name is Raymond Nigel Templar but please, call me Rayne."

"Rayne?" She pondered.

That name was not fitting of a human at all. According to the literature she has read, its roots and ancestry aren't even from this continent. She tried not to be disrespectful when as she continued.

"That name has elven origins. Are you from an ancient bloodline?"

The paladin began to laugh once more. Lorelei moped in embarrassment. Her educated guess appeared to be way off base. Whether that was due to her teachers or historical text was yet to be seen.

"Not at all," he chuckled. "It's a long story but I won't trouble you with the details."

"I don't mind," she coyly replied.

The look of pure curiosity staining her expression must have had a warming effect on him as he returned with a bright and welcoming smile.

The constant drone of beading rain had slowly ceased. An orange hue of light began to penetrate through the grey clouds above. Rayne stood up and let his gaze linger against the nearby window.

"Looks like the rain has stopped," stated the paladin. "We should be okay to travel now."

"We?"

Rayne turned and smiled towards the young elf.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if I left you out here all by yourself. My horse is right outside. I can take you wherever you'd like."

A smile pressed against the cloth. Her heart warmed with every breath she took. Everything had happened so fast she had completely forgotten about her original purpose for coming here. Lingering thoughts of dread began to surface. She didn't want to go home with her tail between her legs but it appears there were no other viable options. Lorelei had a lot of pride but even she could admit failure when it is staring at her boldly in the face. The young elf had overestimated her abilities and nearly paid the ultimate price for it.

At the very least, she could return home to continue her training. This had been a successful learning experience with a just a couple of minor setbacks. The experience she gained on this journey would be one she would never forget; in more ways than one.

"Silvermoon," she tenderly stated. "I'd like to go home."

"Silvermoon, eh?"

He took his eyes off the young elf for just a brief moment while scratching his head.

"I've never been to Quel'Thaas before. This should be an exciting trip."

The paladin walked over to the back of the cottage and quickly returned with several familiar items and armor in his hands. He placed the folded garments next to the elf and stepped through the door leading outside. Freshly caked piles of mud instantly stuck to his boots as the rain continued its malevolence even after dissipating.

"Your clothes are all dry now. Feel free to get dressed and if you're hungry, help yourself to some boar meat. It should be good enough to eat by now. I'll be out here preparing the horse for our trip."

Before he was completely out of view he waved through the window and said, "I'll be right outside. Let me know if you need anything."

Lorelei could feel her heart calling out to him but her lips were silent. She took a moment to examine the rest of the abandoned cottage. A few broken windows faced the opposing wall where the paladin once sat. Emerald was still sleeping. She couldn't believe how easily he took to him. It took a solid two weeks before he would learn the sit command and he instantly warmed up to the paladin as if they'd been friends for life.

She surveyed the windows one more time to ensure Rayne was not looking from a secret vantage point before pushing aside the cloth draped over here and donning her armor. It was a little tight upon the second fitting but that could easily be attributed to the hidden beads of moisture still gluing the leather fibers tightly together. Every piece was methodically strapped on. Lorelei could feel confidence beginning to build in her once more. This armor was not just for her protection. It was a symbol of herself as a warrior.

Strapping on the belt came last. It fit snugly on the favored notch. She surveyed her belt pouch and accounted for every coin and item in her possession. In some ways she still had issues trusting the paladin but he continually surprised her by subsequently blowing them all away. A nail grazed her exposed thigh. Her eyes lingered on the four grave gashes staining her damaged pants. Lorelei almost died because of it but looking at it now told a different story. It was almost as if she had a bad run in with a thorny bush than a near death experience against a banshee. The paladin really went above and beyond the call of duty and the young elf was saddened that she hadn't even properly thanked him yet.

A light smile pursed on her soft pink lips. She seized the stick of meats and slowly walked over to her companion. The wet black nose of the tiger began to dance as Lorelei approached. She knelt down and guided the delicious trio of meats towards his large mouth.

"Hungry boy?"

Emerald's large yellow eyes slowly opened. His nose bounced up and down towards the location of the blissful scent. The young elf slid a large chunk of meat into her thin hand and presented to her pet. A wide pink tongue exited his drooping maw as it took three generous swipes at the freshly cook boar before engulfing it in one bite. Lorelei overlooked the feverishly tickling feeling against her fingers before sliding down another piece on the ground next to him. She took the last piece in her hands and brought it to her lips. The lavish smell of salt and fat dominated the delicious soft brown rock as she slowly revealed her shining white teeth and took a generous bite. A surprisingly burst of flavor rushed down her mouth. Whether it was the hunger or skill of the chef was still to be determined as she graciously dove into the hunk of meat with passionate delight.

The pleasant meal was over as quickly as it began. Lorelei gave her pet a loving scratch right on his favored spot before standing up and gathering the rest of her belongings. There was no noticeable damage to her weapons but they could benefit from an examination by a trained professional. Thankfully they were not in short supply in Silvermoon.

Heavy footsteps trotted along the mud just outside the cottage. The loud slapping sound drew the young elf's attention. A gracious white horse came into view through the soggy window. Golden barding shined brightly against the newly revealed sun. This was definitely a fitting steed for its owner. The paladin gently guided it along towards the open door as he stepped inside.

"Lorelei, I would like you to meet a friend of mine," Rayne grinned. "This is Icarus. Icarus, this is Lorelei."

The horse let out a quick breath and nodded. Lorelei knew her way around these majestic creatures and gently ran her delicate hands along his chin and nose.

"He's beautiful."

"Wait here buddy," ordered the paladin has he knotted the reins outside the door. "I just need to put my armor on and we'll be good to go."

"Wait," she pleaded.

The young elf walked with her savoir and knelt down to pick up a heavy piece of his silver plate armor.

"Let me assist you."

"You don't have to –"

"Please," Lorelei interjected. "It is the least I can do."

"There's no way I can say no to an offer like that," smiled Rayne. "Have you ever done this before?"

The young elf nodded.

"I help my brother don his armor every morning."

"Really? Well then, I'll it in your professional hands then."

Lorelei slowly worked her way around each piece of plate. She carefully locked them into place making sure each latch was secured tightly. Her hands worked around the pristine muscular landscape. Though she was privy to a raw viewing only a few moments earlier, her emotions did not waver. This feeling reminded the young elf of her home. Even though the colors and molding differed, this was nearly an identical memory of the few calm moments she got to enjoy with Jean before they both headed off to their respective duties.

"There," she stated. "All done."

The paladin slowly turned towards her while checking the work of his companion. Everything appeared to be properly fastened and sat perfectly over his large fame.

"This feels great. Thank you Lore – "

His words were silenced as two hands lightly pressed against his cheeks. The elf could feel warmth growing in her palms as she gently rested her forehead against his chest.

"Anar'alah anu dela'na."

After a deep breath, the young elf slowly pushed herself off of his armor and looked up at him with glowing green eyes. She could see the bafflement surrounding his expression and it warmed her heart. Even he could be bashful at times. As she lowered her hands from his face Lorelei noticed the color quickly returning to his cheeks.

"I – uh," he laughed, nearly tripping over his own tonuge.

She enjoyed being on this side of the fence. Knowing he was capable of such emotions put her heart at ease.

"That was a prayer I offer to my brother every day. I'm not exactly sure how to translate the expression but it means, _by the light guide us_."

"Thank you Lorelei," he stated.

She stared up at him and nearly lost himself in his deep blue eyes. The rapid taps of her heart grew faster and louder with each passing second. Lorelei had never experienced a feeling such as this but begged for it to continue. It was leading her to something truly wonderful. She wasn't sure where it was heading but would follow it both willingly and blindly.

"Shall we?"

The paladin's word shocked the young elf to her core. Reality snapped back into place. Her eyes followed him towards the door. He untied the reins and offered his hand. The warmth expending from his presence was insurmountable.

"May I?" He smiled.

Lorelei slowly placed her hand in his. The smooth touch of his gauntlet nearly melted the tips of her fingers as he closed his thumb atop her hand and seized it lightly but securely. Rayne guided her towards Icarus and with a quick boost placed her atop his golden saddle. The air felt cool and moist as she drank in the atmosphere surround her.

"Ready to go?" Rayne said taking his place atop his mighty steed.

The elf nodded.

"Emerald!" She called out.

The tiger slowly paced itself towards the door.

"Will he be okay to travel?"

"Okay?" She smirked. "I just hope your horse can keep up."

"That's the spirit," laughed the paladin. "Hold on tight."

Lorelei wrapped her hands around his midsection. The hard steel plates still carried some of his warmth. She placed her head against his back and let it rest against the familiar golden cloak she had once wrapped herself in. The world had completely changed in just a single day. Everything she knew was only but a small fraction of what was out there. The thought never crossed her mind that a member of the enemy of her people would be the most heroic, noble, and caring person she had the pleasure of meeting outside of the protective gates of Silvermoon. She truly felt at ease with this stranger and was looking forward to the journey ahead.

"Thank you Rayne."

Her words came out no higher than a whisper but somehow, her feelings got through to the paladin.

"Let's go Icarus!"

The horse roared in compliance as the pair took off in a burst of speed. Emerald clawed away at the dirt and followed them along the muddy trail.

"Hey Rayne," Lorelei yelled.

The forceful wind blowing against them proved a challenge to her senses so she wanted to make sure her voice was heard.

"Yea Lorelei?"

"How long do you think it will take to get to Silvermoon?"

"Well, if I really push Icarus," he began as calculations formulated in his head. Despite not traveling there himself, the paladin had a pretty good sense of direction as he's memorized maps of the Eastern Kingdoms backwards and forwards since he was a child. "I'd say we should arrive early tomorrow morning. Assuming we avoid common patrolling paths and stop for rest of course."

"Wow," she replied. He had truly thought of everything. Just north of the Eastern Plaguelands was Horde territory. Rayne knew he couldn't follow the easiest trails as they were built for the blood elves, not the Alliance.

"If it's going to be a while," she began. Her bottom lip found its way under her teeth instinctively as she clenched her companion even tighter. "Would you mind telling me the story about your name?"

"Not at all," he cheerfully replied. "It looks like we're going to have a lot of time to trade stories. I have many questions about you as well."

Lorelei squeezed him tight as they sped through the desolate landscape. Her initial journey may have ended but a new one was beginning right before her very eyes. Even if there weren't any monsters to kill, she was excited about taking on this new quest. Today proved there was a lot of truths about this world that still remained hidden. While she may still uncover only a fraction of them now, the young elf never felt more fervent to learn as much as she could from this handsome new friend of hers.


	10. Chapter 9

_The Dead Scar_

 _Silvermoon City_

Historical texts and drawings did not do justice to the massive blight of land. The sun began to peek out over the eastern mountains. Rayne had only heard stories about Arthas' march through Quel'Thalas but didn't imagine that his wrought devastation would still leave a mark on these otherwise beautiful lands. Grandiose trees and vegetation stretched beyond his vision and yet under the hooves of Icarus was nothing but death and decay. It was a terrible on an otherwise incredible landscape.

Taking this path was Lorelei's idea. She had mentioned that most locals and villagers stay clear of this area due to the occasional wandering minion of the Scourge. It aided in their progress towards the ancient elven city as they were fortunate enough to not be detected by any wandering guards or elven citizens.

The young elf continued to hold on to him tightly even as their pace slowed down to a stable trot. They had talked and shared stories throughout the entire journey. Her timid and reserved demeanor was quickly expelled the moment the ride began. Rayne enjoyed hearing her journey from the tragic beginnings to the much happier ending. Things were definitely looking up for this perky young elf and it only appeared to be getting better.

"There," pointed Lorelei.

Her hand trailed off to the west. In the distance, the paladin could see the makings a large elven village.

"So that's where you lived with your brother?"

"Yes. Just beyond the edge of town."

Rayne could feel remorse trickling into his gut. He had been given every opportunity in this world to be whoever he wanted. There was never a day where he had to worry about surviving a harsh winter storm or wondering where his next meal was coming from. That was the life he was privileged to receive. The struggle of peasants and common folk was not one the paladin had experienced but he could certainly empathize with their plight.

"You are an incredible woman Lorelei."

"Thank you," she replied with a gentle squeeze. "But if it weren't for my brother, I don't know if I'd even be here today."

"He sounds like an amazing guy. I would be honored to meet him one day."

The blood elf nodded against his back in agreement. It was obvious whenever Lorelei opened her mouth it was usually to tell a story about her brother's strength. He held a big place in her heart. There may have been no one else in Azeroth she care for more but judging by how things have went over the last couple of hours, it was slowly growing larger to make room for someone else. Likewise, Rayne's heart started to warm as well. If he was able to become friends with someone who would otherwise be labeled an enemy, perhaps he could live up to the tremendous image others have placed before him. Whether she knew it or not, her presence instilled confidence in the paladin and he was eternally grateful.

"Do you think we can reach Silvermoon before the sun rises over the edge of the mountains?"

"I believe so," she replied. "That is, if you think Icarus is up for it."

"Hear that boy?" Rayne laughed. "The lady has imposed a challenge on us."

The horse let out a mighty blast of air through his nostrils signaling his compliance.

"Emerald!" Called the young elf.

Her pet had been extraordinarily adept at not only keeping pace with the horse but also warning the pair of upcoming dangers.

"Go on ahead and wait for me under the tree like last time. Got it?"

The tiger acknowledge and took off in a dead sprint like a green-hued bolt of lightning. His speed topped anything the paladin had seen in him up until this point and was stunned at the level of obedience he demonstrated.

"Think you can catch him now?" Teased Lorelei.

"Only one way to find out," Rayne replied. He lowered his goggles and snapped the shade setting into place. They'll be racing with the sun just coming into view and he didn't want it impeding the final stretch of their journey.

"Let's go Icarus!" The paladin shouted while snapping the reins. "Hold on tight."

Wind blew over Rayne's body as his steed launched forward. They raced down the decaying path towards the tall stone walls ahead. Another exciting experience was just around the corner. The paladin hoped his presence would cause his new friend too much trouble given the inevitable circumstances that lie ahead.

* * *

 _Farstrider's Square_

Silvermoon

"Sir!" A soldier called as he burst through the Colonel's door. The desperation in his tone and blatant disregard for protocol signified the importance of his message.

"What is it?" Jean asked while lifting himself away from the desk. Even though his shift started at sunrise he couldn't sleep due to the circumstances and decided to come in early.

"Guards have reported seeing a green tiger passing by the front gate just a few moments ago."

"What?!" He Colonel retrieved his broadsword and scabbard standing against the bookshelf behind him and approached the guard with copious fervor.

"Did they see anyone else?"

"No sir," the guard shook his head. "He ran by very quickly but appeared to be alone."

Dread was the foremost emotion plaguing Jeans thoughts followed by quick bursts of anger. His sister loved her beloved pet tiger. He watched them bond over the last year as if they had been together their entire lives. There was no way he would abandon her. The only situation that could ever bring up that scenario filled the Colonel with an overwhelming sense of terror.

"Gather the auxiliary guards from the Court of the Sun and meet me at the gates."

The scorn in tone was thick.

"I want that tiger captured and brought to me immediately."

"Yes sir!"

The guard bolted out of the room nearly colliding with the next guard attempting to enter. Their brief altercation drew a confused look from their superior but this momentary lapse of professionalism would be overlooked if he brought some engaging news with him.

"Sir!"

The new guard saluted between heavy breaths. Wherever he came from must have been quite the distance if one of his guards was this winded.

"Speak soldier," Jean snarled.

If this was unrelated to the tiger than it would be this guard's last words for the foreseeable future.

"We've spotted an intruder at our gates!"

"What kind of intruder?" The colonel inquired.

Though his mind was still clouded with thoughts of his sister's tiger, they slowly locked onto the statement presented by his subordinate. There was a slight chance these two matters were related.

"A lone Alliance soldier," the guard stated between breaths. "A human… On horseback."

The Alliance didn't have any territory nearby. This soldier was a long ways from home which only piqued the Colonel's interest.

"And why are you bringing this to my attention?" He taunted.

It was baffling that they hadn't brought news of killing the Alliance dog instead of reporting his arrival.

"Because sir," panted the guard. "He appears to have a hostage -"

The Colonel sped out of the room before listening to the guard's complete thought. His mind grew restless with anxiety as a pool of callous thoughts began to flow freely. There would be no saving that poor soul should he have laid a single finger on his beloved sister.

* * *

 _The Main Gate_

Silvermoon

"Stand down!" The guards ordered.

Over a dozen of them had poured out of the front entrance and surrounded the paladin from all sides. Their bows were drawn and arrows tightly knocked across a safe distance of over forty feet.

These men were well trained. They knew standing any closer could lock them melee combat rendering their arrows ineffective if they wished to harm only their intended target. There was no telling were an arrow would strike in the heat of battle between two moving adversaries. It was a good move on their part.

"Stop it everyone!" Lorelei pleaded. "This is a misunderstanding."

Rayne prepared to receive some animosity upon his arrival but this was beyond his expectations. It was true their respected affiliations were at war with each other but they appeared to be singling the paladin out as if he were guilty of another crime entirely. He erred on the side of caution but that didn't mean he was completely defenseless. His shield was strapped securely to Icarus' barding on the left side for quick retrieval. However, his mace was even closer tugging at him by the waist. If push came to shove he'd much rather have the shield than the hammer.

"I mean you no harm," declared the paladin.

He slowly released the reins of the horse and raised his hands in compliance. His left finger lightly grazed the switch on his goggles subsequently activating the hostility sensor. This keen feature is not utilized in the mass production version of these lenses. Currently it was in the beta stages of testing. Rayne and Findle had designed them to lock on to potential enemies and highlight a box around them. The screen will then place a colored bar underneath them signifying the level of threat they possess.

As the system booted on Rayne saw the majority were sitting at the orange level. One peculiar subject was skirting on the red zone. His bow was not locked as tightly compared to the others. Fear was motivating his actions more than anything and the paladin knew it could produce some deadly results even if by sheer accident.

"Please, for the safety everyone –"

"Shut up!" Ordered the guard. "Release your hostage immediately or we will kill you this instant!"

"I'm not going anywhere!"

The young elf's grip tightened around Rayne's waist. At least she would be well protected behind his armor should a stray arrow find its way towards them. This crutch would impede any rash actions the paladin could take but he quickly realized that the longer this drew out, the worse his situation became.

Rayne lowered his arms. His eyes locked at the intensifying threat meters as the one rogue guard he was keeping his eye one was just about to jump over the edge. The bow quivered in his hands as the string began slipping from his sweaty fingertips. There was a brief pause. His eyes tensed. He was breaking down. The paladin prepared himself for the worst case scenario.

The arrow released whizzing past its owner and diving towards the paladin with a wickedly sharp grin. Rayne flicked his shield up and caught the arrow bluntly against its greatly protective hide. It forced the finely crafted barrier to smack his armor chest as the metal plates clapped together with a resounding thud that shook the paladin to his core. It would have done significantly less damage had he strapped the shield properly but this was the best results he could get given the situation. Unfortunately for Rayne, the goggles showed the remaining guards quickly raising their threat levels to a deep crimson shade.

"STAND DOWN!" A sharp voice called. "All of you, lower your weapons!"

Tensions seemed to quickly boil down. Everyone's levels soon trickled down to yellow and slowly approaching green shades. Rayne lowered the shield and examined the source of the disruption. Another guard clad in black and gold armor with regal red trim throughout the plates began stomping towards the ground. At his waste was a large broadsword that nearly kissed the ground with every step he took.

A fight fist crashed against a guard's chin. Blood spat out coating the soil below with vital fluids as he crashed to the ground. Coughs exuded from his lungs with more and more sticky red goo coating his mouth and armor. A foot clamped down on his throat as he wheezed to another taste of air begging his superior to stop.

"I should kill you beneath my boot," the scornful elf snapped. "You would dare fire an arrow with one of our own brethren between your sights?!"

"Colonel," pleaded the guard.

His voice cracked under the immense pressure being laid upon by the sharp steel boot.

"It was an –"

"Jean!"

Lorelei leapt off the horse and sped towards her brother. She wrapped her thin arms around his armor and pressed herself against his chest.

"It's okay. Everything's okay," she continued to plead.

 _So that's Lorelei's brother?_ Rayne thought. _What a scary guy..._

The paladin watched as Jean slowly released his foot from the subordinate's throat. The elder sibling returned her embraced and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. No amount of threats to his life could have pulled Rayne away from witnessing that moment. He had spent a considerable amount of time listening to the young elf praising this man. Watching their love for each other on display was a beautiful thing to witness despite the ever-present threat of death looming.

They continued to take amongst themselves. At first, it appeared her older brother was still harboring anger towards Lorelei. She was much more animated when speaking with her brother than Rayne was used to seeing. It was hard to hear from this distance but it appears Lorelei was laying out the entire story of everything that happened. Whether or not she would tell him every great detail itched at the paladin's thoughts. Attempting to clear up a misunderstanding appeared to be much more arduous with the elder sibling that it was with the young elf.

The mood slowly faded as Jean quickly formed a smile on his face and wrapped her in another hug. He dismissed them from sight with one wave of his gauntlet. Rayne's anxiety drifted away as he saw the eager brother approaching with both warmth and curiosity.

"My name is Jean Starstrider, Ranger-Colonel of Silvermoon and Captain of the Guard. It appears I owe you a debt of gratitude sir –"

"Raymond," the paladin stated while jumping from his horse.

Though it bothered him every time he said it, formally introducing yourself to someone knew was an old habit that just didn't seem to die. He extended his hand and locked gauntlets with the blood elf in a tight handshake.

"Raymond Nigel Templar," he smiled. "But please, call me Rayne."

"Rayne?" The puzzled elf looked at him with intrigue. "Historically, that name is of elven origins. Do you by chance –"

"It's a long story," Lorelei interjected as the paladin laughed at her increasing confidence and initiative.

"Is that so?" Jean pondered. "Then I would be delighted to hear it and more inside our chambers."

"I'd be honored," the paladin replied bowing his head.

His eyes wandered towards the top of the stone gates surrounding the city and felt the tickle of anxiety creeping back in.

"Are you sure it'll be okay. I wouldn't want to impose nor put you in a difficult situation."

"Nonsense," Jean waved signaling his unbridled command over the guards. "Anyone that my beloved sister speaks so highly of is worthy to sit at my table. You are my honored guest. The least I can do is offer you a bit of hospitality after your long journey. I promise you on my word that no trouble will befall you or myself. Please, follow me."

This highly unorthodox situation presented a unique conundrum. On the one hand, he knew his life would be constantly threatened with every breath he took inside those walls. Even if the captain of the guards was on his side, it wouldn't save him from a rogue blade stealthily placed across his throat. On the other hand, looking at the young elf eagerly smiling back at him told him this story begged to go on. It was a once in a lifetime experience really. Wasting it might be something he'd live to regret.

"Thank you Jean."

"My pleasure Rayne," the blood elf smiled.

The paladin walked with Icarus in tow alongside his new friend through the massive entrance. He listened intently to the Colonel as he provided some small insights about the architecture and historical significance of the path they walked on. Even with his great interest in the subject, he couldn't help but notice out of the corner of his eye Lorelei would occasionally sneak glances at him. This may be the start of a great friendship which seemed to tickle him in an oddly familiar way. This was definitely the right choice to make.

* * *

 _Farstrider's Square_

Silvermoon

The servant girl bowed after setting down the tray filled with sweet smelling fruits, pastries and three steaming cups of tea on the glass table. She exited without orders but Jean caught her eyes lingering on his guest as she left. Whether this was due to his unique presence given his race or substantially refined looks was still undecided.

The Colonel dismissed the guards standing outside his door. They appeared reluctant given the circumstances but knew better than to convey that verbally. It would prove disastrous for their future career prospects. The door was shut as they exited leaving the three at peace inside of the Starstrider living quarters. Jean was afforded this plush space due to his rank. Servicing the mighty elven army had many benefits but not without its sacrifices. The blood elf ensured they had every accommodation necessary to live a peaceful and quiet life. After so many years spent in the forest, this was a welcomed and much needed change.

A military apartment had a lot of unique amenities not typically found in forest huts. They each had their own separate rooms and bathing spaces. The foyer was decorated with fine silk drapes on the windows and elven plants and pottery. The large oval-shaped glass table in the center was surrounded by a three auburn chairs on one side where Rayne was sitting in the middle and a long similarly colored couch opposite to them. Lorelei had taken a seat towards the end of the sofa with her dainty elbow resting along the arm but her eyes had never left the paladin's sight since they arrived.

Their honored guest had already regaled him with the heroic tale of the gallant rescue of Lorelei. He wanted to wait until prying eyes were out of sight to thank him properly. A story as unique as theirs would be one for the history books. While Jean may be a small footnote in the grand tale, there was no way he could sit idly by without presenting his guest with honor and praise he was rightfully due.

"Thank you Rayne," Jean stated while taking a knee beside him. "Words cannot express my gratitude. I will forever be in your debt."

"Jean please," pleaded the paladin. "Do not trouble yourself over me. I was just doing my duty. Anyone else in my position would have done the same."

"Modest and brave?" Jean smiled while standing. "Those are two traits I wish I could infuse in my men."

"Those with the inherent strength will have the intrinsic responsibility to become a blessing onto others. We are their shield. We are their sword. We are their light."

"May it guide us always," Jean finished.

That was the mantra taught to all paladins who undertake the trails. The Colonel knew it well through his own training but was delighted to find someone in these parts who he could bond with beyond the rank and file of the military.

"It takes a lot of discipline to become a paladin. I saw many of my brothers give up well before the end. Those who passed became something greater than themselves though not without sacrificing their former lives. However," Jean paused while enjoying a small sip of the steaming beverage. "You are quite the unique soul Rayne Templar. For you to endure the trails and retain the humanity of who you once were is admirable. I don't believe I've ever met someone of your stature and standing that can openly express their emotions so freely. I'm envious of that."

"I was taught the toughest lesson in life is to never run away from yourself. It is important to stay true to who you are. Hiding behind a mask is more than a disservice to those who had sacrificed their lives to ensure yours, it is an injustice to the world."

Jean coughed through a brief laugh.

"You have wisdom beyond your age. Thought it is not too common seeing that we are brothers of the light. If only it could be passed down through blood instead of being taught," the Colonel quipped while offering his sister a passing glance.

She slowly curled up within herself in shame knowing her brother's anger over the previous incident was still lingering.

"Please, try not to be too rough on her," he joked.

Jean caught his sister offering the paladin a silent look of thanks for his requested mercy. In the short time they've been together it was almost as if they developed their own unique language. He should not be surprised that Lorelei was drawn to him. With every moment they spent together, Jean too felt himself growing closer with the young paladin.

"So you were born at the end of the First War?"

Rayne nodded while helping himself to a cup of fresh elderberry tea.

"That's what I was told," he smiled before. "My father was always hazy with the details given the hysteria that was going on at the time."

"Indeed, that was a terribly bloody affair," Jean nodded while taking another drink. "I'd like to think we've evolved past that but given the current state of politics, it appears unlikely. Even with a common enemy before us we bicker like children."

"Kids have a unique perspective on the world," the paladin commented. "They are very instinctual and operate on a simpler set of rules. But, much like children, Azeroth with the Alliance and Horde on these lands is young. We're still learning and growing together. Watching it blossom from is one of the many joys we get to experience. Through our efforts, we helped create something more than any one of us as an individual can be."

The moisture in Jean's throat evaporated. He had never met a man so carefree and optimistic in his entire life. Even with the potential threat of death looming within every corner of the enemy's territory he still spoke and acted as if he were with his greatest of friends. That was a strength beyond anything required to wield a sword required.

"You continually surpass my expectations Rayne Templar. I am honored that you would share such wisdom with me today."

"I imagine we'd be having a much different conversation if I had found your sister a minute later," the paladin laughed slightly uncomfortably.

"Indeed," nodded Jean. "Though I hardly believe fate would have put a shield on your back if it didn't want you to use it. Has the protective powers granted by the light always called out to you?"

"I guess you can say that," laughed Rayne. "Although, I always had a knack for the healing nature the light offers. My trainers said I was much more suited down that path but I inevitably refused. I just felt more comfortable as a bulwark of justice than a beacon of light."

The paladin took a small sip of tea. It was remarkably powerful with a hint of sweetness. Elves must have enjoyed the natural bitterness of the tea leaves. Rayne preferred his with a little more sugar but it was still tasty nonetheless.

"And you, Jean?"

"The light called to me in a different way. I," he suddenly stopped himself while passing a glance to Lorelei. "We were not afforded many luxuries as children. I felt a natural affinity with a blade in my hands. The light assists me in honing my craft so that I may be the hammer of justice needed to strike down those that would darken our home. It has given us many blessings since then and I hope it will continue do to so."

"May it be a blessing to us all," Rayne said while raising his cup and dispensing the rest of the liquid into his body.

Time had passed much quicker than the Colonel anticipated. He would have loved to continue exploring exceptional mind of the paladin but duty came first.

"I'm afraid time is not on our side. Unfortunately I must return to my work."

"Already?!" The young elf whined.

It was the first thing she had said in their presence but her words were duly noted.

"I believe I should get going as well. I've caused enough trouble for one day," jested the paladin while standing.

"Not at all," Jean retorted following suit. "My position affords me many privileges. Please allow me to escort you to the front gates and ensure your safe passage."

"Thank you Jean."

"Please Rayne," the Colonel replied with a smile, "I have not even begun to finish thanking you yet."

They gingerly walked through the open courtyards of Silvermoon. More prying eyes rained down upon them but Jean was feeling much less concerned with their thoughts than he did moments prior. In the wake of potential travesty, something good did surface. The Colonel had no idea there was someone out there who shared such an idealistic view on life in spite of all the chaos going on in the world. It was refreshing to see there were still people who still had a firm grasp on hope.

The guards at the front gates didn't give anything but their utmost respect as the trio stepped through the front gates. Jean stopped several yards past the main wall. The yellow glare of the risen sun was still struggling to make it over the mountains. It was going to be hard to say goodbye to this one but it was ultimately the best course of action. Still, the Colonel had no regrets.

"In another world, I'm sure we could have been best friends Rayne Templar," Jean smiled while extending his hand.

"Aye," Rayne replied clasping the Colonel's palm. "I look forward to the day where we can make that world into a reality Jean Starstrider."

"By the light guide us," the Colonel began.

"Anar'alah anu dela'na," smiled the paladin.

He offered one last look at the young elf.

"Take care of yourself Lorelei."

Rayne quickly mounted his horse. He snapped the reins and the white steed took off running down the open path. It only took a moment for him to be completely out of sight and with that, the paladin was gone just as quickly as he came.

A rattling tension still lingered in the air. Lorelei's eyes had never left the trail even after the paladin vanished from view. Anxiety began to tug at the Colonel's heart. The way she looked at him then and even now was different than she had ever dared to gaze at anyone else. He knew this wasn't going to be easy but it must be done.

"You are smitten with him."

The young elf's eyes went wide. She turned them towards the stern look that has befallen her brother's emotions.

"If fate is kind, you will never see him again."

"But Jean –"

"But nothing!" Her pleas were immediately silenced. "Have you not given one thought or inkling about our situation? Do you know what the very implications of your feelings could do you us?"

"I -," her thoughts stuttered which reflected in her soft voice.

Though her body had reached maturity her mind still had a ways to go. Jean never thought he was going to have this discussion with his beloved sister so soon but there was not better time than right now.

"We are in a precarious position. I have struggled all of my life to provide for us. My blood has soiled these lands for years in order to ensure you will never shed another tear. There is nothing I won't do to ensure your happiness my dear sister."

His malice grew tenfold as a scornful tone filled his throat.

"And yet you're willing to throw it all away to the first man that makes your heart flutter?!"

Lorelei winced against the force of her brother's bold statement. Her naivety was astounding. They had fought and scrapped for years just barely getting by at most times. Jean sacrificed everything to get where they are today. He had defended his home against the oncoming of the scourge when he was still a teenager. The horrors he saw on that day still haunt his memories. Even when he was forced to become a man long before nature intended, he did so without uttering a single word of resistance. Jean knew exactly what it took to survive in this harsh world and was not about to have it taken from him by his impetuous sister.

An exhausting sigh exited the Colonel's lungs. There was no amount of anger filling his heart that would stop him from ever loving this sweet innocent child. She was all he had in this world. Nothing else mattered other than her safety and happiness but if one had to be sacrificed over the other, the former would always win.

"Listen to me Lorelei," Jean stated while grabbing her by the shoulders. "You and him… Is something that can never be. We have many enemies within our very own walls that would love nothing more to watch us fall from grace. They are looking for something, anything that can be used against us. The Horde would not look kindly on such a union. Our people need them for the time being. For protection. For stability. For unity. This decision is not mine alone to make. Should word of this get out, I know our brothers and sisters would not hesitate to make that decision for you in a way that will certainly bring you great sadness."

"Why not?!" She snapped back. "It's just like Rayne said. We have the power to change the world. Maybe it starts with us –"

"Don't be so naïve!" Interrupted Jean.

It was time to take drastic measure though still met with great resistance from his personal beliefs.

"He is merely a dreamer. If the world were so easily swayed with words than wars would not exist. Suffering would not exist. And our parents would not have thrown their lives away and allowed us to be tormented by this harsh and cruel realm."

The Colonel took a minute to let his words sink in.

"Perhaps one day there will be a place where all three of us can share the rest of our moments together. I long for that kind of peace as it resides in your young heart and mind. However, we must face reality as it is presented to us. I cannot, I will not chase a dream if it means surrendering everything I've worked to obtain in this life." His eyes locked onto hers as he finished. "You are all I have Lorelei. Please do not let my sacrifices be in vain."

Tears began to build in the tiny corners of her eyes. It appears he had finally gotten through to her. She had put up much more of a fight than he originally thought.

"How can I –" she began choking on the words as they sobbingly poured over her tongue. "How can I make this feeling stop?"

"That I do not know," Jean replied. "But perhaps I can take your mind off it for the time being. I will be departing to Northrend this evening. The Horde Expedition has seen it fit to give me the honor of commanding the defense of a great stronghold."

"Northrend," her eyes sharpened as if the location were familiar to her somehow.

Other than hearing about it from local gossip, Jean was unfamiliar why that place would be of any interest to her.

"I want you to come with me. I know it's not much in light of everything but it'll give you the chance to experience something new. I have been told Dalaran is a majestic city. There should be plenty of things to keep your mind occupied and help you put your heart at rest."

The young elf nodded. It wasn't with the amount of enthusiasm Jean had hoped for. They had spent many years cooped up within the walls of Silvermoon. He had hoped taking her to a far off continent would be an exciting opportunity. Given the circumstance, her mind has not let go of those dangerous thoughts. It may take weeks, months, or even years for her to understand but at the very least, Jean hoped she would learn to forgive him. There is not telling what awaited him on that frozen wasteland. He only hoped they could put an end to it soon so he can return back to their peaceful and loving home.

Jean poured over his words once more. Throughout all of his experiences he knew it would never be true. Fate was never kind. It was cruel, bitter, and harsh. Some things were just not meant to change.

 **End of Act I**


	11. Chapter 10

_Ymiron's Seat_

 _Utgarde Keep_

The soulless chill of the throne room was usually quiet. King Ymiron enjoyed the solitude of the high seat while his minions and loyal subjects in the dragonflayer clan brought death and torment to their enemies. Rather than hearing the screams of invaders outside of his massive keep, the king was forced to listen to the ongoing drivel of the scourge Overlord, Prince Keleseth, as he relayed his report over an open book.

"We've experienced more resistance in Valgarde than initially anticipated. The Dragonflayer Lieutenants suggest we support the worgs and invaders with a squad of berserkers. My scouts have reported that may be hasty as we cannot afford to lose our larger units in a simple land dispute."

The King took another long exhausting breath. He was tired of these political games. The darkfallen Overlord assigned to his domain was constantly barraging him with inane questions and comments. It was like he actually cared about Ymiron's people or their plight. He was surprised he didn't ask him to send all of his soldiers over there this instant. For every vrykul that falls means another soldier under the Prince's control. They could overrun this entire land with undead if they desired. Like it even mattered anymore. This deal was becoming worse every minute. It hurt him just thinking about it. All the King wanted to do now was rest.

"Say nothing," he wheezed. "Let the clans do as they wish."

"Sir," the darkfallen nodded in compliance. "There is just one more matter to discuss."

This was getting out of hand. Every breath that exited the King's lungs did so with a defiant scratch. He longed to end this charade but knew deep down in his newly deceased heart that he could never defy _him_. At first, Ymiron thought an alliance with the Lich King would bring prosperity to the vrykul. It made sense when he analyzed it with his lieutenants. The Lich King ruled Northrend. There wasn't a corner on this continent once could travel without finding his icy touch or influence lurking about. In order to prove himself a worthy ally, Ymiron assaulted this keep and rules over these ancient halls as their main base of operations. He then turned their fortress in Gjalerbron into a ritual site to raise his fallen subjects as minions of the scourge as an offering to the Lich King. This was a good offering and yet, there was not enough room for two kings on these lands. One of them would inevitably have to dethrone the other.

Ymiron was willingly castrated. He gave up his life for the benefits of the eternal torment of undeath. The Lich King sold him on the idea of obtaining immense power in this form but in reality, he was merely keeping this vrykul king in check. There was no defying your king. Now he sent his plaything to assist when in reality, Keleseth was merely ensuring that the King was living up to his end of the agreement. It was a disgusting thing to behold but so long as there was breath in Ymiron's lungs, he would keep fighting.

"On with it," he hissed.

Exhaustion had already settled in and he longed for more rest. This new form was clearly not as advertised. He no longer needed vital elements of survival such as air and water but sleep continued to call out to the King. It was as if his body was crying for the eternal slumber of the grave. Undeath was not natural. The gods must have known this was coming. That is why they were now silent to their pleas.

"The Alliance Vanguard is preparing a massive assault on our keep. Shades have been monitoring the area at night. We are hearing reports that they have called for a contingent force of over one-hundred soldiers being led by a named group of mercenaries. They call themselves, the Templar Knights."

"Templar…" The name drew a coarse breath from his tongue. "I know not this name."

"They have only been active in Northrend for a short period of time but have already developed a reputation. We have heard whispers of their influence from Borean Tundra, Sholozar Basin, and even Icecrown itself."

If the southern dogs have decided to send out their named heroes it meant the King had actually succeeded in their mission. There had been hundreds of lone adventurers and soldiers attempting to make a name for themselves that either ended up in the cages and starved or hung outside of a tree as a warning of what's to come. The fact that they are sending people of some notoriety meant Ymiron was finally getting to them.

"Do they pose a threat?"

The darkfallen clasped the book soundly.

"Not at all. In fact, our reports have found that their efforts have brought them quite the infamy. A greater threat to this keep would be a squad of armored roosters. We have more than enough clansmen to deal with the lot at our gates."

Prince Keleseth finished his report with a bold statement.

"They are fools sent on a fool's errand King Ymiron. Clowns pretending to be conquerors. Mere flies on a wall."

A sour taste pooled in his tongue. The vrykul king felt insulted. This was a waste of his time. The Vanguard was taunting him to make a move. They would find nothing but disappointment. No glory, honor, or treasure could be found in his palace. Only death and destruction awaited them.

* * *

 _Valgarde_

 _Howling Fjord_

Cold steel pressed against the paladin's skin. The familiar feeling of frozen air returned to his lungs. Minstrels ceased playing their lutes and guitars as the boat began to slow down as it arrived at the port of Valgarde. This stronghold was one of the first landing zones for the Valiance Expedition. While it pales into size and scale of its older brother Fort Wrynn in Borean Tundra, it had its own unique charm and personality.

Two days have passed since his chance encounter and subsequent visit to the blood elf capital of Silvermoon. The paladin thought time would move quickly up until the final day of the assault but it has passed considerably slower. His mind raced with hundreds of thoughts of the upcoming mission but a few more distracting memories tugged away at him. Lingering on them now would do him no good. They had embarked on an epic journey. Two-hundred of his father's finest had agreed to follow him into battle along with his closest and dearest friends. He couldn't let them down. Not with his and his father's name on the line.

The boat came to a halt. Salty sea water air rushed to fill his lungs as Rayne took his first step off the boat. He barely got his second foot off the floating transport before his eyes caught the image of a frantic soldier running on the docks towards him. She wore thick plates of armor adorned with crimson trimming. Her long black hair tied into a neat ponytail swung from side to side with each desperate step.

"Sir!" She saluted while coming to a grinding halt.

The clean white tabard with a hearty red cross in the center was clear in view. The Captain always had a thing about cleanliness.

"Captain Sherwood," Rayne saluted in kind.

She insisted on this formality while in the presence of the soldiers but it wasn't a real issue at this point.

"Where are the troops?"

"Inside," Rayne pointed with his thumb. "They're still suiting up. I don't think you have to worry –"

Her arms clasped around his big frame and locked it in a tight hug. The metal plates crunched together as she gave him a good squeeze. The Captain was surprisingly stronger than most people realized but the paladin knew this all too well.

"It's good to see you again Rayne!"

"Hey," Rayne laughed. "It's good to see you too Lena."

It had been over a month since they last spoke. Lena Sherwood was the same age as Rayne, his lifelong neighbor, and oldest companion. Her father was one of the first blacksmiths Nigel Templar brought under his banner to create the massive empire that they have built today. Many days and nights were shared playing along the field. She was the closest thing to a sibling Rayne had.

"How have you been? I've been waiting to hear stories about your journey to Northrend but no one will tell me anything."

"It's a long story," the paladin laughed. "But I'm happy you decided to lead this mission."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world," she smiled. "In fact, when your father first came to me with this, I left on the first ship to Northrend to make sure all of the preparations were set."

"I knew I could count on you," Rayne grinned.

A fist collided with his shoulder. Anger brewed within the deep brown eyes of the Captain.

"The why didn't you ask me to join the Templar Knights jerk?! I've known you longer than any of those bozos back there. Do you know how insulting it is to face the soldiers every day knowing I was the one that got left behind?"

"Com'on Lena," the paladin pleaded. "It wasn't that I didn't want to bring you. It's because I needed you with them."

His blue eyes pierced through the diminished fury beneath the Captain's lenses.

"There is no one on this world I could trust with such an important task. They are very important to me and so are you. I couldn't think of anyone else I would rather have in the front lines."

"Dammit Rayne," she sighed. Her lips began to quiver. "You know I can't stay mad at you when you look at me like that."

"Really?"

The paladin was aghast. He's never seen such a coy and timid look on Lena's face before. Before he could even fathom the possibilities of this new leaf that she had turned, another fist found its way straight into his gut.

"What are you waiting for? A kiss?!" She barked returning to her usually feisty self. "Vice Admiral Keller is waiting for you at his command post with the rest of your bozos."

The Captain marched right past him and onto the ship stomping her feet and shouting orders.

"Wake up you donkeys. It's time to get a move on. Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!"

Valgarde just got a bit livelier with Captain Sherwood on the stampede. He was painfully reminded that she was more akin to a brother than a sister. Rayne laughed quietly to himself while walking down the dock. This port town was a sight to behold. Snow capped the peaks of the mountains afar but there was still plenty of gorgeous green vegetation about to remind the paladin that this place was not just a giant block of ice.

Just beyond the wooden stairs Rayne locked his gaze on the older gentleman in a large blue sailor's hat growling orders amongst the surrounding soldiers. The bright blue tabard with the Alliance insignia could be clearly seen over his delicate white shirt. The only armor he wore were a pair of silver-colored plate pants and greaves. He appeared to be menacing even from this distance but through his callous words the paladin could feel his sincerity. The Admiral wouldn't get so worked up if he didn't care.

Rayne spotted four familiar faces surrounding the command post. Marcus was a sight for sore eyes. Dozens of scars small and large ravaged his muscular frame from the waist up while thick sheets of grey plate covered his legs and feet. Even his gauntlets had less protection on them than a bath towel. He never liked to wear a lot of armor and even in this blood-chilling weather he looked cool and calm as if it were a sunny day on the beach.

A much smaller companion stood right beside the mighty warrior. Weasel was covered head to toe in black leather garb. Tiny silver studs popped out like makeshift rivets on key sections. A similar pair of mechanical goggles sat on his forehead with a light purple hue glowing from the top. The gnome practiced engineering as well but specialized in the much more destructive capabilities of the craft.

Behind the gnome stood a mountain of flaming cloth. The burning red robes worn by Cayden was the only warm thing in this otherwise frozen tundra. This was his first official group assignment as a member of the Templar Knights. Rayne could barely see through the tiny holes in the skull shaped cowl but he knew the young mage was primed and ready to go.

Finally the paladin's eyes drifted towards the beautiful night elf. Narula's violet adorned leather armor matched her shining hair. It wrapped tightly around her vivid curves that no dress or apron could ever hope to compare. Unlike her fellow night elves, Narula chose practicality in her armor above all else. She showed very little of her soft pastel skin. Her fingers were left exposed through the rigid leather gauntlets to allow her keep in touch with the nature she called upon to do her bidding. Two large spaulders sat on her shoulders and were finely crafted in the shape of a phoenix.

"Morning boss," the gnome called out.

"Glad you guys could make it," Rayne smiled greeting everyone. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"Nah, we just got here too thanks to the magical taxi."

"Hey!" Cayden snapped at the taunting gnome.

They began to bicker trading insults of height, age, and skill. Nothing out of the ordinary for this lot.

"Narula," Rayne began.

He could hardly take his eyes away from her even with a minor spat going on between his finest warriors.

"Thank you very much for coming."

"It is my pleasure Raymond," she smiled back. "I am happy you decided to bring me along this time, though, I was a bit startled you did not ask me yourself."

The paladin hung his head in shame.

"I'm sorry about that. I wanted to, believe me, but I was preoccupied with some other things."

That statement itched at Rayne's chest. His mind was already working faster than his heart could process. There was no reason to hide anything from the night elf but for some reason any time he lingered on her eyes for too long he started to feel guilty.

"Please," she quietly laughed. "I was only kidding. Still, it would have been nice for you to visit again. The children have been very energetic since you left."

"How are they?" Rayne asked. "Were you able to find someone to look after them while you are here helping me?"

The night elf nodded.

"They are doing fine. Of course they were sad when you left. A few of the local elders agreed to watch them in shifts. They will be in good hands for the week as you requested."

"Good," Rayne sighed feeling the burden slipping from his shoulders. "I'll come back to visit once we're done with our mission."

"I am sure that will make them very happy," she smiled.

The soft curves of her lips forming that beautiful expression always found its way into the warmest place of Rayne's heart.

"Yo lady-killer!" Marcus called while wrapping his beefy arm over the paladin's neck. "It must be tough pulling yourself away from everyone while on a mission. Everyone's been asking about you."

The paladin's nerves stood on end. He couldn't believe he was hearing that vile nickname in front of his beloved. The dastardly wicked grin on the warrior's face was just a heap of sour icing on this foul tasting cake.

"Lady-killer?"

The puzzled look on Narula's face sent shivers running down Rayne's spine. He had no intention of even attempting to start that conversation now let alone ever. It was a terrible reputation forced upon the paladin that he hoped would die a quick and silent death.

"Oh, Rayne hasn't told you?" Marcus smirked. "Our fearless leader's quite popular here. He's got all sorts of fans in Dalaran –"

"What the hell are you doing?!" Interjected Rayne in a violent whisper directly into Marcus' ear.

The warrior replied in kind.

"Give you a much needed push."

"Do you perhaps mean the vendors that Rayne buys all of those gifts for us?" Narula inquired.

She hit the nail on the head. If word had already traveled this far, there was no saving the paladin now.

"It does make sense," Narula thought. "He spends a lot of gold on their goods and services. I would be very excited to see him too if he was keeping me in business."

The aloof innocence displayed by the night elf put Rayne's mind at ease. There may yet be some things that even the great wisdom passed down by her ancestors that have yet to be learned. The paladin offered a silent prayer to the light thanking them for getting him through another difficult trial.

"You're no fun," the warrior spat while walking back towards the others.

"Are you ready to go?" Rayne asked diverting all attention away from that blasphemously dangerous road.

Narula happily nodded.

"I am excited to join you Raymond. I hope I will not slow you down."

"Of course not," Rayne countered with a bright smile. "I'm going to be relying on your strength to get us through this. There's no one I'd rather have by my side."

It had been a while since they had taken on a mission together. When Rayne had completed his training, he ventured off on many small endeavors at the request of the Argent Dawn with Narula accompanying him. They learned to develop and hone the skills taught by their respective teachers while standing together against anything put before them. Even though their quests were always short, they made a fantastic and thus far unbeatable team.

"Where's frick'n Templar?!"

The coarse voice of the Vice-Admiral rang out across Valgarde. The paladin turned around and was instantly greeted by the angered sneer of the man in charge.

"I'm Rayne Templar," he painfully laughed hoping to bring some levity to this otherwise salty leader.

"Well, why are you just standing around pretty-boy?" Taunted Keller. "I ain't got all day."

The Vice-Admiral hastily dragged the paladin towards the table. Maps, battlements, and requisition forms littered the top in several thickly stacked piles. The entire Valgarde resistance sat before Rayne's eyes. Weeks upon horrible weeks the brave soldiers of the Alliance fought against the dastardly forces of the vrykul. If they had more troops available perhaps they could turn the ongoing war in their favor but for now both sides were locked in a stalemate. Rayne had pondered deeply while formulating his plan. The burden of the turning the tide now rests on his shoulders.

"Alright kid," Keller began. "Let's see what you've got."

* * *

 _Sunreaver's Sanctuary_

Dalaran

Lorelei never had a taste for military affairs but she was always amazed at watching her brother work. He commanded such an inspiring presence. Everyone within an earshot always gave their fullest attention when he spoke. Watching them salute and carry out their orders filled the young elf with incredible pride. Still, she had problems even looking him in the eyes at this point.

The voyage to Northrend was slow and cold. Jean was more than accommodating and tried to make the best of it but the rough trip wasn't what bothered her. His words continued to linger on penetrating the deeps fragments of her heart. She never wanted to do anything to bring him harm after all he's done to ensure she was never hurt in any way. Her mind continued to waver as she sat patiently outside at the tavern watching the Colonel from afar.

"Another drink?" The friendly barmaid asked with a tankard full of sweet win in her grip.

"No thank you," Lorelei replied.

She continued to stare at her empty cup while running her fingers across the smooth glass. Not only were the disheartening pleas of her brother still ringing in her mind she was also mourning the quick death of her adventuring career. Perhaps she was not as prepared as initially anticipated but that doesn't warrant giving up outright.

The young elf continued to ponder her future which reminded her of the shining clear trinket in her hands. It was once colorful and full to the brim. Now it is empty, fragile, and ready to be discarded. This was not how her story was supposed to end and yet, she felt powerless to do anything but stare and wait for something good to happen.

"What is troubling you my dear sister?"

Lorelei slowly turned her head to acknowledge Jean.

"Nothing," She said while forcing a short smile. "Is everything okay?"

"Preparations are being made for the defense. I will be overseeing them on the field shortly. I may be required to stay on site so I'll let the guards know you'll be alone tonight. They will take good care of you."

"Okay."

The defeated sigh triggered her brother to take additional action. He took a seat right next to Lorelei. The heavy plates of his gauntlets clanked soundly on the smooth wooden surface.

"Are you feeling homesick? Shall I request passage back to Silvermoon?"

The young elf shook her head.

"It's not that. I just feel," she paused for a moment while biting her lip for some additional courage. "It's kind of boring here, that's all."

"Boring? In Dalaran?"

Her brother almost laughed which seemed oddly out of place given how cool and in control he was just a few moments prior.

"This city has a breadth of history, culture, and knowledge ingrained in every stone. There is a lot more to see than within these walls. You do not have to stay at my back the entire time."

"I know," she nodded. "I'm just not used to it, that's all."

Her words cut deep. Being locked inside the sanctuary of Silvermoon had made her appetite for adventure strong. She normally wouldn't be so passive aggressive but something has riled up her confidence as of late. The desire to be proper had diminished for the flavor of the new and unexplored.

"Lorelei," her brother exhaled.

He was being unusually quiet as if trying to avoid the conversation entirely. This was not like him.

"I'm sorry Jean," the young elf looked at him with a much more sympathetic gaze.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he replied.

Jean reached into his cloak and procured a small coin pouch. He carefully placed it on her sister's lap.

"Go out, explore, and buy yourself something nice. There are many unique things available only here. Dalaran is a safe place though I ask you not venture too far beyond our walls. Even though this is neutral territory, many members of the opposing faction will not be kind to our presence in certain parts of town. If you stay close by, I trust you'll have a good time."

"Sir!"

The random voice quickly pulled the Colonel's attention away. His face dropped and in an instant ceased his duties as her brother and resumed his military command.

"Duty calls my dear sister. I promise to see you before I leave. Do take care of yourself."

Lorelei nodded once more. She had already run out of things to say both in encouragement and her own defense. Jean had already vanished from sight. He could already hear him giving out orders to guards and soldiers alike.

She hated to admit it but Jean was right. Staying cooped up in here wasn't going to do her any good. Perhaps there are things to see and do to take her mind off things. The young elf thanked the servant and proceeded outside the sanctuary towards the main road. Hundreds of citizens and visitors alike packed the streets. There must be something fun to do around these parts if all of the people had gathered here. Rumors have been passing about an underground combat arena in the sewers. That might be enticing to watch even if it was potentially defying her brother's request.

Dozens of voices droned into the air. It was hard to make out who was saying what. Vendors peddled their exquisite wares while others were enticing them with exotic foods and wine. The coin pouch sitting in her pocked was getting heavier with every step. She decided to indulge in something different. That seemed to be her preferred taste as of late.

Lorelei walked past a pair of elves giggling like children through another wave of people moving up and down the street. They were being noticeably loud which started to itch at her patience.

"Com'on, just tell us," one begged.

"Please Aimee," the other added.

The young elf shook her head and continued towards the signs pointer her to the Magus Commerce Exchange.

"Has Rayne been by again or hasn't he?"

Lorelei's heart started beating rapidly. The name alone sent her emotions into a frayed panic. She quickly ducked around the corner and placed her back against the wall. Her body began to act on its own. Soon she felt herself moving closer and closer towards the source of the sound without any orders being directly given.

"Please stop you too," the black haired elf begged. "He stopped by a couple of days ago but I haven't seen him since."

The other two giggling idiots continued to tease her relentlessly.

"Aw, that's too bad," the first replied. "He'll be back sooner than you know."

"Don't give up Aimee, we're rooting for you!" The second cheered.

Their incessant bickering began digging long and thick blades through Lorelei's heart. She had no idea why it was bothering her so much but continued to listen despite the pain coursing through her veins.

"Actually, I heard a rumor that he might be coming back to town soon," Aimee replied.

"Really?!" They said in unison.

The black haired elf nodded.

"One of his friends walked by here earlier today. He just stopped by One More Glass and wanted to say hello. We talked briefly and then suddenly, he just left while laughing."

"Ew, was it that big bald guy?" The first coughed.

"I bet it was the gnome," the second replied, "I'm always catching him looking at me with those ugly goggles on drooling like an idiot."

Lorelei quickly grew bored of their flabbergasting dribble. The two may be useless but the black haired one had the information Lorelei was looking for. It still troubled her as to why she was doing it but her heart pleaded for her to continue. This was a new quest right for the taking. Let the implications, complications, or consequences, or be damned. The young elf was determined to see this out to the very end.


	12. Chapter 11

_Valgarde_

 _Howling Fjord_

"And then we go home," the paladin finished with a genuine smile.

The Vice-Admiral stared in bewilderment. Every word that came out of Rayne's mouth must have had a lasting impression because he remained speechless for what felt like an eternity. The silence amongst the Templar Knights continued to grow casting an eerie aura over the group. Sweat began to pool on Keller's brow as the powder keg of awkwardness was nearly ready to explode.

"I like it," Marcus grinned.

"Ditto," Weasel smiled. "This should be fun."

Cayden nodded his head.

"It's a bold plan but the strategy is solid. Given our current fighting capabilities, manpower, and overall team effectiveness I calculate a ninety-one percent chance of success. Give or take a few unknown variables."

The Vice-Admiral slammed his fists on the table.

"You're all nuts!" He snapped while locking eyes on the paladin. "This is suicide. How in the hell can you stand there and smile knowing full well what you're up against?"

A burst of shock filled the paladin' expression as he was suddenly grabbed by the elder officer and pulled aside.

"Listen kid," he began toning down the level of disdain that was radiating off his tone earlier. "I know you want to put on a brave face for your men back there but this is insane. What you're planning, what you're trying to do is unfathomable. In all of my years servicing the Alliance military I would never, ever put the lives of my men at risk in such a way. In fact, the most merciful thing to do in this situation is line them all up and slit their throats yourself. It would save _them and you_ a lot of trouble and heartbreak."

"Thank you for your concern Vice-Admiral," the paladin waved. "But I am confident in both my strategy and the skill of my companions. They are more than capable to handle this task."

"I'm no stranger to that either Templar," Keller shot back. "You don't think we've heard about your reputation all the way out here? I didn't want to say this in front of everyone but you guys are a joke. Not only do we know it but I'm sure the King in there knows it too. Thoralius has been catching shadows inside of our walls over the last few days. I'm sure they've been spying on us and know full well you're coming. That's probably why we haven't seen them increasing their defenses in preparation for the attack. Hell, the only thing that hasn't surprised us is the fact that none of them have died yet due to their lack of talent or your incompetence. Knowing that, I cannot in good faith let you go out there on a glorified suicide mission."

Rayne placed his hand on the Vice-Admirals shoulder. He took a deep breath and channeled the soothing calmness of the light within his body.

"I'm very well of our reputation as well Vice-Admiral Keller. I see the looks and hear the snickers wherever I go. These people didn't just put their faith in me to lead them. They're not mercenaries or employees."

The paladin enjoyed another deep breath as he finished.

"They are my friends and the last thing I would want to do is put them in any real danger. We all have a past and something to prove. This is our time; _our moment_ to succeed. All I'm asking is that you put the same faith in me that they have shown throughout constant failure and embarrassment. I know this is the right path. Please, allow me to prove it to you."

The Vice-Admiral did not look convinced. He groaned while forcing the paladin's hand off his shoulder.

"Do what you want kid. Just remember what I said. I just hope you'll live to regret it."

"Thank you Vice-Admiral," Rayne smiled once again. The overly enthusiastic expression must have set off Keller's buttons because he took off fuming back towards the docks. This wasn't going to be easy but the paladin was determined to change his mind. He really didn't have any other choice. The Templar Knights may very well have their last hurrah inside of that dreaded keep. There was no plan B and nowhere to run to after this. They had to succeed. Rayne was determined to see that happen.

"Sir!" Lena saluted upon her approach.

The paladin reciprocated in kind. Two companies of soldiers marched behind her. They were well armored from head to two in shimmering silver plate with ornate red trimming around the edges. Each wielded the finely crafted arms bearing the Templar mark. A sword and shield was the most popular choice but the soldiers were free to choose the weapons they were most comfortable with. Some preferred the might of a claymore while others preferred to forgo the extra defense and put a second sword in their free hand.

"Are they ready to go?"

"Yes sir!" Lene replied. "First and second companies awaiting your orders."

"Good," Rayne nodded.

The formality between them was sometimes too awkward but given the stakes at hand, also very necessary.

"Please move the soldiers to the front of the keep. On my mark, charge in formation D13 and remain in that battle order until you see the signal."

"Formation D13?!"

Lena's genuine look of surprise was overshadowed only by her derisive tone.

"Are you serious? We can –"

"This is important Lena," Rayne interrupted and finished with a bright smile. "Trust me."

The Captain looked away from him for a moment. It was bad for protocol especially in front of the men but Rayne knew that expression all too well. No matter how many layers of armor she wore or degrees of separation but between them by the military code, she would always care for him like a brother first and foremost.

"Roger that sir," she begrudgingly replied.

Lena turned band began barking the orders at the soldiers. They gave a unanimous reply and began their march towards the front gates.

"Raymond," a delicate voice called from behind.

The paladin felt his heart jump for a moment but quickly turned towards Narula's beautiful visage.

"Weasel has begun scouting ahead. Everyone else is ready."

"Thank you," said the paladin. As much as he'd love to stand here and continue staring into her bright silver eyes, they had a job to do. "Let's get in position."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Narula's words caught the paladin off guard. He expected a level of apprehension from Keller and even his soldiers but never did he expect the one he cared for most in this crazy world of theirs to slam the weight of reality on his shoulders.

"We really don't have much of a choice unfortunately," Rayne laughed.

It was painfully obvious he was trying to hide his own doubts with humor but the night elf still looked at him with warmth and hope above all else. No matter how bad things may seem Narula always seemed to instill confidence in the young paladin.

"This may be the very last time the Templar Knights ride into battle." His eyes darted away for a moment before locking back onto hers. "If things should go south in there, promise me that you'll –"

"Please," the night elf interrupted. "Do not speak like that Raymond. It is unbecoming of you. I cannot imagine a world without you in it nor would I ever entertain such a sad thought."

The sullen expression of remorse washed away as her lips curved to form the familiar smile Rayne loved so much.

"No matter what happens inside, I have faith in you."

She touched the paladin's shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze while looking upon him with stern eyes beneath the warm silver glow.

"And I will protect you."

Faith was a funny thing. Those who have it are empowered to give it to others and those you need it always seem to find someone willing to share it. That was just another thing he adored about her. She always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better.

"Thank you, Narula."

The night elf smiled brightly.

"My pleasure, Raymond."

"Alright," the paladin grinned returning to his usual upbeat demeanor. "Ready to get our feet wet? I hope you brought a towel"

"Yes," Narula nodded before a puzzling expression slowly took hold. "A towel? Where are we going?"

Rayne's teeth slowly shined through his wide grin.

"Swimming."

* * *

 _Magus Commerce Exchange_

 _Dalaran_

The young elf's patience was ready to burst. She stood by and listened to the diatribe those mongrels would dare call a conversation for the better part of half an hour before finally fleeing the scene. An opportunity like this may not present itself again. She had to seize this moment now before another distraction leered its ugly head in.

"Cakes, brownies, donuts," called the black-haired elf to the crowd.

She had quickly shifted gears to fulfilling her regular duties as a saleswoman as if the last few agonizing minutes had not even existed.

Lorelei skipped into the crowd and melded with the moving bodies as if she had been a part of their march since it began. They traveled quickly and before she knew it, the baker was dead in her sights. The two elves locked eyes as Lorelei stepped out of the main passage towards the smiling vendor.

"Greetings," she smiled. "How can I help you?"

"I – uh..."

The young elf's heart raced and affected even the most basic of functions from working properly. Though she planned on attacking this head on like the minions of the scourge that fell to her bow just days prior but was not prepared for this undertaking.

"We have the best pastries in the city. They are freshly baked every morning. What kind would you like today?"

This woman was ridiculously kind. It made sense that Rayne would be drawn to her. They are very similar in that regard. Lorelei couldn't let that interfere with her mission. In order to get what she was truly after, the young elf had to play ball.

"What would you recommend for a first time visitor?" Smiled Lorelei.

"Oh, this is your first time visiting Dalaran?" The high elf smiled back. "Welcome! My name is Aimee. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Thanks Aimee," the young elf smirked. "I'm Lorelei."

"Have you been enjoying your stay here?"

"Sort of," Lorelei coyly replied. "I haven't really explored anywhere yet."

"Well, there's lots of things to see and do around here," Aimee stated. "I suggest making a stop at the Dalaran Visitor's Center. They have lots of information and recommendations to assist you with your stay here."

"Actually," the young elf interjected. "I wanted to talk to you specifically."

"Me?"

Aimee's innocence shined forth through her befuddled expression.

"How may I be of service?"

She had the high elf right where she wanted her. Stating her purpose outright would be suicide and given her recent changes in pulse speed and fluctuating facial temperature, Lorelei wasn't sure if she could even go down that route anyways. The key was to be both subtle and inquisitive. She had to look like she didn't want any specific information, otherwise, it would be painfully obvious what she was truly after. The last thing the young elf wanted to do was look like the pair of snickering morons who stood here minutes prior.

"I was hope you could help me find someone. He's about this tall," Lorelei raised her flat hand about half a foot above her head, "has blonde hair, silver armor with gold trim, and a pair of goggles that usually sit on his forehead."

Aimee's face immediately turned red given that vague description. The young elf had hit pay dirt.

"You wouldn't happen to mean," the high elf was visibly flustered and tried to regain some semblance of composure. "Are you speaking of Rayne?"

"That's right!" Lorelei cheered. "I haven't seen him in a few days and I heard he visits here often. I was hoping someone might know where I can find him."

"It's true," began Aimee. "I saw Rayne a few days ago as well. He was in a rush. Oh wait," her tone went from fluttering to completely rattled. "Would you happen to be…? I mean, are you –"

"Am I who?"

Lorelei focused her gaze into Aimee's glowing blue eyes.

"Oh. So you're not," the high elf thankfully sighed.

Her relief brought nothing but to the young elf. There were still plenty of questions left to ask.

"Who are you talking about?" Questioned Lorelei.

"It's nothing," Aimee exhaled with a touch of defeat in her breath. "But to answer your question, he was only here briefly to pick up a few things. There might be some others who know more."

"Really?" The young elf's expression perked up. "Like who?"

"Hmm," the high elf pondered for a moment. "There's Betha at the Visitor's Center. Susan at Glorious Goods. Tiffany at Cartier."

Aimee continued to list of names. The young elf's brow tightened with every passing second. It was oddly suspect that every person Rayne knew in this city just happened to be female. The once prestigious image he held of him was slowly starting to tarnish. However, the ongoing ache in her heart took precedence over all other emotions.

"Although," Aimee paused. "Perhaps Fialla would be your best bet. We talked the other day and she mentioned seeing him."

"Where can I find her?"

The excitement in Lorelei's voice must have been abundant because it nearly pushed back the black-haired elf into her own cart.

"She works at One More Glass. Just follow this road and make a right and the end. You can't miss it or her for that matter. She's usually out front greeting customers."

"Thank you Aimee," the young elf replied. The next step in her journey had already been set.

"Oh wait," the high elf called just stopping Lorelei before getting lost in the crown.

She reached into her cart and placed two decadent pastries inside of a small paper bag and handed them to the young elf.

"Please take these with my compliments. I hope you enjoy them."

"But I," the young elf briefly debated on how to respond in this unique situation. Such kindness is not unbeknownst to her but it usually came from fear and not genuine consideration. "Thank you again Aimee. I appreciate all of your help."

"Think nothing of it," Aimee replied. "Any friend of Rayne's is a friend of mine."

 _Friend?_ The young elf thought. She didn't like the way that sounded and yet hearing his name being called so lovingly reminded her of his caring nature. If he was able to touch Lorelei's heart in a short amount of time there's no wonder why he has an assortment of fans and friendly people wherever he went.

Lorelei dove into the crowd and followed them east along the main path. The young elf contemplated stuffing the bag full of pastries into a nearby refuse bin. Something about that conversation left a sour taste in her mouth that no amount of sugar could overcome.

* * *

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

 _Howling Fjord_

"Man this armor sucks," the gnome spat.

The tightening folds of his black leather outfit began squeaking with a heightened ferocity.

"I spent no more than a minute in that freezing cesspool and I still can't get dry."

Weasel continued to shake his body flinging droplets of water in all directions. No matter how hard he tried there was no way he would rid himself of these soaking stains.

"You're like a bad dog, you know that?" Marcus taunted.

The warrior threw his hands up to protect the rest of his body from being subjected to the second-hand water stains.

"You better not hope I catch a cold Rayne," Weasel sniffed. "I will haunt you to the end of your days."

Marcus drilled his fist into the top of the gnome's skull. He let out a muffled grunt as his tiny teeth slammed together.

"It'll take a lot more than a couple of sneezes to kill you Weasel," grunted Marcus. "Now shut up and let's get moving."

"Easy for you to say," Weasel ranted. "Water just bounces off metal. You and Rayne have nothing to worry about. Narula's _one with nature_ so she just absorbs it like a frick'n houseplant. And don't get me started on Flame-Brain here."

"Hey!" Cayden snapped. "I offered to help you dry off you ungrateful –"

"If you think I'm going to let your flames near my perfectly svelte figure than you're a few shards short of an enchantment."

"You half-witted little –!"

"Calm down Cayden," pleaded the paladin. "Save your energy and enthusiasm for once we get inside. There's plenty to fight in there. We can't be drawing our blades against each other."

"Raymond is right," added Narula.

She knelt down and tapped the gnome gently on the head. His body began to glow with a faint white light. Soon the tightness of his squeaking leather armor faded as the water slowly evaporated.

"All better?" She smiled while standing.

"Much," the cheeky gnome grinned. "Now I can see why the boss is always swooning."

The paladin pinched the bridge of his nose hoping to stop his mind from racing away with thoughts outside the task at hand. They marched across the field towards a set of wooden stairs. The massive keep rose hundreds of feet into the chilled sky. Sculptures depicting vrykul imagery served as both a territorial marking and warning for those who dared to trespass on their lands.

Security in this area was lax. Weasel had done a fantastic job scouting as per usual. The battle waged on with Captain Sherwood and her companies on the southern end of the keep while Rayne and his crew snuck around through the river on the east side. Even though they were separated by this giant vrykul infested castle, they could still hear the fury of combat from afar. The Templar soldiers were giving it there all over there. Now it was time for the paladin to earn his keep.

"Say boss," Weasel began in an inquisitive tone. "Are we finally going to be able to –"

"Not until I give the signal," ordered Rayne.

"Dammit," the gnome sighed while giving a pile of fallen stones a good kick.

The Templar Knights reached the top of the stairs. Fine crafted wooden poles depicting dragons held illuminated lanterns hanging from their vicious jaws. Three paths stood before them. Sealed doors blocked their entrance from the left and right. In the center, two sconces hung above an opening with a set of stairs leading up. Exceptionally carved tribal imagery overshadowed the opening and led along a slim path towards the top of the keep where a large flame bellowed.

"So this is the place?" Marcus sneered.

He swung the large mace upwards and rested it gently across his muscular shoulders.

"Do you want to knock on the door or shall I?"

"Hey, I didn't freeze my sack off back there scouting this place so you could run inside guns-a-blazing and announce to everyone that we're here!" Weasel implored.

"It was just a joke," the warrior scoffed.

"Let's just go inside quietly. Everyone, stay behind me," commanded the paladin.

They proceeded up the massive set of stairs. The ancient stone masonry filled their lungs with the scent of deterioration and decay. Cayden surveyed every fiber of this building with immense interest and wonder.

"There must me thousands of years of history within these walls. There is a lot of finesse in the construction and design. A lot of hard work went into making this place an iconic piece of architecture. Such a pity the vrykul had to taint it with their blasphemy," the mage stated.

"Take it from me kid," Marcus interjected. "People have been fighting for thousands of years. And they'll keep fighting as long as there something to fight about. Places like this are lucky they're still standing. There are a lot more just like it buried under the dirt that no one will ever get to gawk at again. That's the price you pay for inviting war into your land."

Marcus' occasional nuggets of wisdom never ceased to impress the paladin. He was the first to reach the top of the stairs. The smell of death permeated the glimmering room. Heaping mounds of gold, gems, and other valuable trinkets sat in several mounds along the marble path. Countless lives were lost plundering this massive pile of treasure. The entire wealth of King Ymiron and his vrykul clan laid right before their very eyes which instantly filled Rayne's mind with an overwhelming sense of dread.

"GOLD?!"

The gnome cried in bliss as he reached the pinnacle of the massive stone summit. He leapt into the air with a wide grin towards the closest mass of piled coins in sight. The flight was quickly canceled as he hung graciously just a few short feet away with his armor feeling tighter and tighter every second.

"You have got to be kidding me?" Marcus grieved while keeping a tight grip on the flailing gnome.

"Let me down!" Weasel begged crying for his release several times over.

"Do you think they'll just let us walk in there, take their treasure, and leave without any resistance?" The mage posed. "It doesn't make sense."

"Leave me alone! This is all I ever wanted." Pleaded Weasel. "Just give me this and I'll never ask you for a single thing again. I don't want to take it. I just want to taste it."

"Fine!" The warrior snapped. He released the gnome as requested and flung him in the direction of the gold.

The gnome dove headfirst and dug into the heaping pile of shining coins. They splashed from the sight and jingled on the ground with a delightful bounce. He continued to dance within itself as the ancient gold bathed over the tight fibers of his armor. A few pieces managed to unintentionally slip between the cracks. At least, that's what he would probably say in his defense.

"Weasel watch out!" Shouted Marcus.

"Huh?"

The gnome turned his gaze behind him. A chilling blue aura enveloped his vision. The skeleton guardian's glowing red eyes pierced through his soul as it roared and prepared to strike. Weasel cried into the open halls as fear wrapped over his body.

"I don't want to die –"

An explosion of light blinded the gnome. Shattered bones cascaded into the air. Some fizzled into a seared pile of ash while others clanked on the ground before dissolving into lifeless cinders. The gnome turned around and saw the extended palm of his glorious guild master still radiating the sweet and powerful energy of the light within its mighty grip.

"Did you get that out of your system?"

The gnome fervently nodded.

"Good," the paladin replied while lowering his arm.

The light slowly faded from his hands as he took a deep breath.

"We don't have time to dolt. Let's keep moving."

The group walked along the marble path. Weasel gave each mound a treasure a silent goodbye as they walked past. A single tear was at the cusp of falling off his cheek when suddenly Rayne stopped in his path and knelt down.

"Do you hear that?" The paladin asked.

Everyone followed their leader's movements and listened. There was a ravenous sound nearby. Flesh slapped lifelessly amongst itself as the constant drone of death lingered in. Rayne peered his gaze forward down the short set of stairs where a massive abomination stood guarding a colossal iron door. Just in front of him, a group of vrykul laughed and talked amongst themselves. They stood near an open entrance to the east. The icy touch of the outdoors flowed from that area.

"Should we take the abom boss?" Weasel pondered.

Rayne shook his head.

"Even if we tried, we have those vrykul down there to deal with. I'd like to go through here with as little conflict as possible. Besides, even if we got past him, there is no way of knowing that door is even open."

In order to get through here quickly they had to limit every encounter whenever possible. There was no telling how things were going outside with Lena and the men. The sooner they got through here with the sword in tow, the better. A plan quickly formed in the paladin's mind.

"Weasel, sneak down there and distract them. Disable them if you have to. We'll move through the mounds of gold and slip down into the open door."

"I like it," the gnome replied. "Except the part where you have me taking all the risk."

"You know I wouldn't ask unless I knew you could handle it," smiled Rayne.

"Ah shucks, you know just what to say to make a guy blush."

The gnome lowered the goggles over his eyes. Color faded out of his armor and began to meld and mesh with the surroundings. He quickly jumped down to the lower level and tucked himself perfectly behind the beefy leg of the dragonflayer warrior. Their obnoxious breathing was louder than Weasel's own steps. From within his belt the gnome procured a small metal bead. A tiny wick jutted out of its tight husk to which he gave a gentle twist. It quickly sparked and Weasel hurled the miniscule object towards left hand wall.

"Now!" Rayne ordered in a whisper.

The rest of them proceeded through the golden hills and began their quick descent towards the door. A loud pop echoed through the room. The vrykuls roared and turned their gaze toward the sight of the distraction. Even the abomination's eyes panned towards the newly created disturbance. They continued to flail away at the empty air searching for an unknown enemy which gave the gnome plenty of time to follow them through the archway.

"Piece of cake!" Weasel announced while running past a few of his slower companions. "Not too shabby for a low-life, huh boss?"

"Well done Weasel," smiled the paladin as they reached the outside entrance. "I knew I could count on –"

His words came to a slow stop and floated harmlessly into the frozen air. Several small encampments were laid about this long pathway. Chunks of snow piled into the cracks and corners where the sun never dared to shine. Ice drizzled from the edges of the open roof forming thick and sharp crystals. Along the path stood over a dozen vrykul warriors, seers, and even an outstanding abomination. The paladin's heart dropped as soon as they all turned their eyes towards the group of invaders. They gathered their weapons while sounding their ferocious battle cry. Thunderous steps approached as the vrykul defense charged towards the Templar Knights.

"So much for that strategy," Rayne announced while drawing his mace and shield. "Narula! Cayden! Slow them down."

The night elf nodded. She planted her feet and threw both hands into the air. Little flecks of electricity bounced between her fingers. Her eyes glowed with a vicious white light as storm clouds formed down the entire path and began raining down violent thrusts of wind and water.

A ball of blue arcane mist formed in Cayden's hands. He shaped it into a large icy ball and with a quick flick of his wrist hurled it down the path. It exploded and the ensuing mist began to cake over the stone walkway. A thick layer of ice quickly formed in its wake. Rain soaked the exterior which was quickly flooded by the stomping of vrykul boots. The brutish warriors lost their traction and immediately began to slip against the slick surface. Their muscular hides cracked against the magically created path and raced down towards the paladin and his companions.

"Slow them down?" Weasel cried. "They're coming in faster!"

"Which is just how I like it!" Grinned the warrior.

Marcus swung his hefty mace backwards and launched it into the oncoming skull of the first arriving vrykul. His jaw turned to dust against the mighty blow of the expertly crafted weapon made with the finest titansteel. A trail of blood arced in the wake of the swing and painted the walls with crimson fluids.

"Hit'em hard when they're already down and we won't have to worry about standing toe to toe with them," Rayne ordered while slamming his hammer into a vrykul gut.

The dragonflayer gasped clutching for any molecules of air his lungs could drink before passing out against the pinpoint precision of the heavy blow.

"You're a poet, you know that boss?" Weasel chimed while crossing his twin daggers into a vrykul throat.

They dug in far reaching the hilts of the blades. The gnome swiped them viciously across sending the detached head skidding into a pile of snow.

The trio continued to pounce on their rapidly approaching foes. Steel met flesh in a brutal dance of death. Pools of crimson fluids began to pool and freeze along the cracks of the stone pathway. Rayne ensured every strike was met with both finesse and strength. Despite their loyalties, the vrykul were still living beings. The paladin's hammer was meant to smite the wicked. These souls, albeit angered and confused, could still be redeemed. He trained for years on how to disable opponents without having to take their lives. It was a skill not many cared to have but proved to be invaluable for keeping Rayne's conscious clean.

Heavy breaths exited their exhausted frames. Though the battle barely lasted a minute, it was much more of a challenge to quickly finish off a fallen opponent racing towards you than try to combat a slower standing one.

All of the vrykuls were either dead or incapacitated. They rested in a heaping pile of flesh near the start of the path. The only thing left to deal with now were the abominations, however, it appears a critical design flaw in the undead horrors has given them a critical advantage. The giant monstrosities also fell victim to the slippery path and were lying face up against the bright sun. Their beefy arms should have been more than adequate to lift them back to their feet but it appears their primary command of attack without mercy took precedent. Without releasing the cleavers, axes, and other deadly implements locked in their grip, they could not maintain the balance necessary to push themselves up. Each mutated creature rolled from side to side trapped in the alcove where they rested with neither the space nor intelligence to escape this unfortunate fate.

"Should we finish off those fat uglies?" Marcus asked.

"No," Rayne quickly replied while shaking his head. "They are no threat to us now. We need to keep moving. Cayden…"

"Two steps ahead of you boss," the mage replied while channeling a bright ball of flame between his extended hands.

With a gentle toss it washed over the frozen path and bathed it in a sea of arcane fire. The ice evaporated nearly instantaneously and created a clean area for them to pass.

"Alright," Rayne declared. "Let's go."


	13. Chapter 12

_Wintergrasp Fortress_

 _Wintergrasp_

The freezing air began to cut at Jean's exposed skin as the wyvern touched down. His plate armor absorbed most of the cold but the lack of helm meant his face would have to endure the gross drop in temperature. This area was surrounded by sharp snow covered mountains. Even with the immense sun looming directly above them this place still felt like the one location in the whole of Azeroth that was the furthest away from it. Gawking at the local geography proved to be of little interest to the blood elf. There was plenty of work left to be done.

Jean dismounted the wyvern and began his trek towards the strategic encampment. The massive fortress was a sight to behold. Ancient walls protected the massive keep in two distinct layers ornamented with golden trim along the thick grey masonry. Cylindrical towers rose up twice as high as the walls and housed several defensive turrets and rocket launchers. Between the inner and outer walls stood two siege workshops. This aided in defending the keep from invaders but limited their attack potential. Two teleportation pads allowed their vehicles quick entrance to the battlefield but with the limited space to build within the walls, it would create a bottleneck that could spell disaster if not properly managed.

The rest of Jean's hand chosen squad arrived earlier this morning. They had begun preparations based on his exact specifications while working with the current local defense commander. The walls were still in dire need of repair after the last attack but with a concentrated effort, Jean estimated they would be fully operational within the next day or two. This would allow him the time necessary to focus his efforts on creating a proper defensive strategy to ensure the Horde controlled this territory for the duration of their stay in Northrend.

"Officer on deck!" A blood elf soldier announced.

Other members of his race responded in kind by saluting their superior. The small contingent force of the other Horde races did not share their enthusiasm or respect. They stood around a large table and appeared bored out of their wits. This was not a good start as the Colonel preferred to have soldiers that were both loyal and eager and these men looked anything but.

The first thing that caught Jean's eye was an unsightly abomination. Based on the reports, this must be Lieutenant Murp representing the Forsaken. Not only did they send such a vile creature on their faction's behalf but the nerve they had to give him an esteemed military ranking proved just how unpredictable the former minions of the scourge can be. The Colonel did not like have any degrees of uncertainty when formulating his strategies. This was already starting to draw upon his waning ire.

A mixed lot of heavily armored tauren and trolls appeared to be lazily awaiting the command of their leader. Seeing as Jean had just arrived it would present a perfect opportunity to whip this lazy group into shape and cement his standing as commander of the Horde defensive. As he approached it became abundantly clear that despite his personal accolades or appointment to this duty, some of them had yet to receive this news.

In the center of the group as a large orc warrior fully suited in a substantial pile of plate armor. Spikes and blades protruded out of the various edges in typical orcish fashion. The helm itself boasted three finely sharpened poles looking to impale anyone that would dare to stand too close. A thick red beard hung off his chin and sat just above his abdomen.

"So, the Generals have decided to send another quaint little elf to bolster our ranks," the orc taunted.

His surrounding men replied with heavy laughter. Jean did not appear amused in the slightest.

"Who is the commanding officer here?" The Colonel asked.

His stern tone did not falter amidst the continued hilarity displayed by the others.

"That would be me," the orc grinned. He pushed himself away from the table and decided to greet the Colonel personally. "Commander Dardosh."

His words were fierce and bold akin to the typical orc style. Jean didn't take much pleasure in these things but he was already seeing the amusement in knocking down his cocky subordinate a few pegs.

"I am Ranger-Colonel Jean Starstrider of Silvermoon. You are to be my Vice-Commander I assume," the blood elf replied.

The orc's brow furrowed. Anger quickly swept across his face. That certainly seemed to do the trick.

"Where do you get off elven scu-"

A tightly wrapped scroll slammed against Dardosh's chest. The red ribbon adorned with a Horde pin was more than enough to declare that this was an official document.

"Orders from Overlord Hellscream. I am to assume command of Wintergrasp until further notice."

The orc ripped the ribbon and poured through the scrolls contents. With every passing word he could see the green skin on his face tightening with rage. It's not every day you are given orders that contradict the stance of a known racist. Despite Garrosh's lack of love for everything that isn't an orc, he knew the value each of the other races possessed. The blood elves proved to be an immense help on Northrend with their particular affinity towards the light. The Horde knew that there was no greater threat to the scourge than the might of a paladin. By tossing the blood elves a bone or two, this would ensure they Warsong Offensive would have a company of champions of the light at their beck and call. Politics still played a heavy role in influencing the actions of each faction. Sometimes you had to sacrifice something you want in order to gain something you need.

"Commanded by an elf," the orc spat. "What is that bastard thinking?!"

"The Overlord sees the bigger picture, as should you Vice-Commander Dardosh. Now, I want –"

"To hell with Garrosh!"

The Colonel anticipated a level of defiance given the situation. However, to openly declare antagonism towards your supreme commander was completely unacceptable. In order for Jean to prove himself worth both to his newly appointed soldiers and the Warsong Offensive he would need to enact a proper punishment for this blatant insubordination.

"Based on your tone, it appears you are unhappy with this decision. Would you like to settle the traditional fashion?"

The Colonel intricately began wrapping each of his fingers along the hilt of the broadsword hanging from his hip.

"Do you wish to challenge me in Mak'gora?"

A smile beamed across his vile green skin.

"Finally," Dardosh grinned. "Now you're saying something I can agree with."

The orc seized the hefty Warhammer and held it tightly in a defensive stance. His soldiers quickly rose and surrounded the newly crowned Vice-Commander. One of his fellow orcs even pulled his ear aside and began to whisper in it. The fuming rage bellowing within his hulking green frame seemingly washed away after only a few seconds. At least there was someone intelligent amongst them that knew of Jean's reputation. The Warsong Offensive wouldn't just send anyone to replace one of their own, especially Garrosh, unless they had proven themselves worthy.

Tensions quickly calmed down. The horde slowly dispersed from their humbled superior as the orc's mace lowered slightly. Jean admired his new subordinate's ability to see when he's outclassed but given the nature of the orcs, further humiliation may be necessary.

"I'm glad we're on the same page." The Colonel looked at all of the surround men and declared, "Let this be known in the history books. This appears to be the first and only case of Mak'gora ending without either combatant drawing their weapon."

"Enough!" The orc roared.

He lifted his mace and charged at the taunting elf. The blood curdling in his large red eyes grew tenfold with every approaching stomp of his greaves. Jean's eyes never left his as Dardosh quickly shortened the distance between them.

Steel clashed against the chilly atmosphere. The resounding ring echoed throughout the northern mountains. Snow forcibly fell from the tips of the walls against the pure sound of the incredible strike. The residually calm atmosphere was rattled once more as the mighty mace of the orc crashed to the ground.

Dardosh's rage was quickly expelled for a look of pure disbelief. Where a once hefty Warhammer stood firmly in his tight green grip now resided only a sleek metal pole with a freshly engraved gash towards the top. The massive head of the hammer had dropped off several feet behind the intended target. It laid lifelessly on the ground completely devoid of any blood or stain. However, the most astounding and subsequently insulting factor of the brief endeavor was the fact that he didn't even see the Colonel swing his sword. The blade continued to rest firmly in its scabbard undisturbed.

"What the –" the orc's confusion was immediately silenced by the painstaking howl burning through his throat.

The blood that once filled his vision immediately stained the hardened fibers of his green skin. Dardosh fell to his knees clutching the severed eye while mighty roars continued to push through the cracks of his teeth. His helm fell to the ground and softly bounced before stopping before the feet of the Colonel. Jean rolled the metal helmet and surveyed the new scar he had given it. He kicked it back to the wailing orc.

"I'm glad you see things my way now."

The new Commander gave his soldiers a simple gaze. They instantly fell in line after that quick display of strength. It was unfortunate that circumstances led them down this path but some people, regardless of skin color, just had to learn the hard way.

* * *

 _Observance Hall_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

The ominous glare of the purple lit room sent a chill down the paladin' back. He silently ordered everyone to follow him quietly along the path towards the broken wooden railway. There was enough space for them to kneel side by side and perform a little reconnaissance.

A lone vrykul woman draped in a crimson cloak stood proudly in front of a large frame that met at the top like the tip of a blade. Two lit braziers sat on opposing sides of a uniquely carved altar casting an orange flame that contrasted against the other lanterns that radiated a violet haze.

"What is going on here?" Marcus whispered to empty ears. No one was paying attention as their gaze was locked on the scene playing out before them.

Darkness started to filter through the room. Rayne could feel his soul being wrapped in a shadow as violent energy started to flicker and spark through the large gateway. His heart pounded against the sturdy metal plate. It was as if it were begging to be released from its cage. Something dreadful was approaching. Rayne could sense it in his light imbued bones.

A splash of energy erupted. The Templar Knights all braced for impact as the blinding light cascaded over them in an instant. It was eerily cold as the molecules of energy slowly faded. The explosion opened a path as a translucent figure began to take shape. Its black armor held the image of skulls and bones across its thick plates. The hulking behemoth was three times larger than even a vrykul and carried a sinister silver blade with glowing blue runes. Rayne's eyes widened as the air in his throat dried up every remaining fragment of moisture. The paladin was now in the ominous presence of the dreaded Lich King.

"What the hell…?!" The gnome squeaked desperately keeping his tone low and quiet.

The tight plates of his armor slowly began to rattle. The chilling presence of the Lich King had bored its way into his soul. Rumors had circulated his sightings all over the continent but this was the first time Rayne has come face to face with the monster that wrought so much devastation. The descriptions and imagery painted by those who lived to tell the tale did not do it justice. He was much more than a monster. This was an entity of pure evil.

"Raymond."

Narula's delicate voice tickled the paladin's ear but it was not enough to break him of this spell. Paladins were not supposed to feel fear. They were trained to overcome it and conquer it. Their presence should be a beacon for all those to follow and yet, Rayne's years of training were being overshadowed by this vile encounter.

A soft hand graced his shoulder. The night elf pulled his body into hers and held him tightly. Her violet lips nearly grazed his ears as she spoke.

"It is okay. You can do this. I believe in you."

The light slowly began to wash away the fear swelling within the paladin's core. Narula's words had worked their magic yet again. He could feel the confidence rushing through his heart. It filled his mind with poise as he lingered forward to get a closer look.

"Thank you Narula," Rayne replied while placing his hand atop hers.

With his renewed vigor, the paladin was able to regain his composure and the evidence slowly took shape. If the Lich King were truly here, Rayne knew it would feel way colder than this.

"I believe the altar is a catalyst for a scrying spell," Cayden stated. "The framework must be a part of the material components required to complete it."

That made sense. Even with a hefty suit of armor, there was no way he could be able to appear that large. Whatever sorcery that this vrykul witch was casting was a clever ruse. Rayne didn't even want to imagine the damage they could cause by placing this altar in front of their keep.

"My liege!" The vrykul woman cried out. Her scratchy voice reminded the paladin of a familiar banshee not that long encountered. "I have done as you asked, and now beseech you for your blessing!"

"What on earth would the Lich King want with that righteous bitch?" Marcus scoffed.

His humor was met with a collective hush from the remaining members of the team.

"Your sacrifice is a testament to your obedience."

The Lich King's voice was dark and brooding. Every breath echoed into their hearts. He was truly malice incarnate. The Lich King extended his cursed blade forward.

"Indeed you are worthy of this charge. Arise, and forever be known as Svala Sorrowgrave!"

Light exploded from the tip of Frostmourne and rained down bolts of black energy. They struck the vrykul's body with a forceful blast cascading her tanned skin in radiant power. Its collective strength lifted her body into the air.

"The sensation is... beyond my imagining," she hailed as the very flesh from her bones began to melt away.

The vrykul's body shattered in a mass of white light. Gone were the tatters of fur clothing and leather. In its place stood thin straps of dark armor with a raven shaped breastplate in the center. A lavish grey helm covered most of her head and shielded her eyes from view but allowed the sinister image of her dark lips to be seen. Black wings emerged allowing the newly formed creature the ability to fly and remain suspended in air. Traces of shadowy dust spilled with every flap. In her hands she wielded a giant greatsword decorated with skulls and burnished leather straps.

 _A val'kyr?!_ Rayne thought.

The paladin had heard warnings about them before. They are beings made up of pure nightmares and have the ability to return the defeated members of the scourge back to life. They are a fearsome foe and if the Lich King can grant anyone this power, there may be more trouble lurking on this hellish continent than anyone has bargained for.

"I am yours to command, my king."

"Your first test awaits you," commanded the Lich King.

He lowered his sword and pointed his ravenous gauntlet towards Rayne.

"Destroy our uninvited guests."

"Busted…" Weasel sighed. He drew his daggers from their sheaths and prepared to engage.

"We've got to move," Rayne ordered. "Now!"

The Templar Knights rushed down the stairs. Rayne drew his hammer while his trusty shield led the charge. Everyone else followed in kind as they raced to engage the floating visage of nightmares.

"I will be happy to slaughter them in your name! Come, enemies of the scourge! I will show you the might of the Lich King!"

"Cayden!" Rayned commanded. "Let'em rip!"

"Roger that," the mage replied.

A pair of burning balls of flame channeled in his palms. He hurled each of them at the val'kyr with a mighty toss. They rocketed towards the white witch and exploded on contact. The quick blasts of arcane energy dispersed just before the second volley of fireballs came within range.

The distraction was working. Now all they had to do was bring down this flying monstrosity to their level. If they could get her in range of Marcus and Weasel, they might be able to whittle her down slowly but surely. There was only one person he could call on to aid in this newly formed strategy.

"Narula," the paladin turned as he drew his shield up. "See if you can bring her down here!"

The night elf nodded as her eyes began to glow with a radiant silver light. From within the cracks of the ancient wooden floorboards sprang forth dozens of thin green vines. They quickly grew in mass and height. Her hands guided them upwards and wrapped around Svala's wings. She tugged her fingers into a closed fist as the vines slowly began dragging the val'kyr towards them.

"Are you crazy?!" Weasel pleaded. "You're bringing her closer to us?"

"We need to inflict as much damage as possible," Rayne stated. "Get to the altar. We'll surround her while Cayden turns up the heat."

The val'kyr began descended down towards them. With every inch she dropped brought her gigantic blade closer and closer to their throats.

"I will vanquish your soul!" Taunted Svala.

"Did you hear that Rayne?!" Weasel cried. "She's trying to take my soul. She can't have my soul! I need that!"

"Shut up gasket-case," Marcus spat. "And get ready to bring the pain."

Svala lifted the greatsword back. The air violently lifted from the ground as if being pulled by a vortex. Rayne's eyes shot open as the blade ceased its ascent and began its violent descent towards them. He planted his feet and raised the towering piece of protective steel over his head to meet the weapon head on.

"Everyone move!"

The sword slammed against the paladin's steel shield. It shook the antediluvian walls of the room. Rayne was sadistically launched backwards into the towering frame. The ancient woods planks cracked in defiance against the armored meteor that crashed into it. Rayne slowly slumped to the ground leaving a paladin shaped indentation in the wall above. His head dropped as blackness began encroaching in the corners of his eyes.

"Rayne's down!" Announced Marcus. "Cayden keep up the pressure. Narula, see if you can wrap up her arms and stop her from swinging that damn sword. And Weasel…"

"Yea?" The timid gnome replied.

"Let's make this look good," smiled the warrior.

Marcus launched his mace up high and blasted the val'kyr square in the chest. The white witch roared against the force of the blow sending her reeling. Two more vines reached up and seized Svala's arms in their brambles. They slowly began to pull hear appendages apart and keep the dreaded blade at bay.

The air wheezed and trembled against the launching of Weasel's shurikens. He drew them from his cloak and palmed half a dozen in each hand. The tiny metal stars flew majestically into the air with pinpoint precision as they struck the val'kyr in several key spots all over her body.

"We've got her!" The warrior cheered.

He leapt into the air and took another wicked swing across her body. The titansteel forged weapon roared in delight against the vile skin of the scourge witch. She continued to howl as more and more vaults of arcane flames continued to explode of her glowing frame. Marcus landed gracefully and turned his body with in the direction of the forced gravity with his mace in tow. The weapon swung upwards once more but was violently stopped by the oncoming strike of Svala's deadly blade.

"Fools!" She spat.

The val'kyr finished her swing and flung the mace towards the open alcove near the stairs.

"Do you think your petty attacks can stop an agent of the scourge?! See now the futility of your actions and prepare to face death itself."

Svala cried into the air as she ripped out the remaining vines binding her in place like wet parchment. A quick flap of her wings lifted her upwards and well out of reach of the Knights below. She snapped her fingers and the altar began glowing with a beaming blue light.

"Help Rayne up," Marcus called to Narula. "I'm going after my mace. Don't stop firing Cayden and Weasel…"

"Yea?" The gnome responded.

"Don't you die on me yet."

"Roger tha – "

Weasel's words ceased as he was immediately flung towards the center of the altar. The gloomy blue light began to take the shape of three howling banshees. They focused their gaze on the rogue and from within their clawed hands shot three beams of pure energy. It blasted the tiny gnome and locked him in place.

"Guys!" Weasel pleaded. "Help me! I'm stuck!"

"Give me a second," Marcus panted while blitzing towards his fallen weapon.

The warrior reached out and clutched the mace in his tight grip and turned to face the val'kyr. She looked down upon him smirking with those hideous black lips as she released the blade over the gnome. It cast down a column of light surrounding him entirely as it began its slow descent.

"Any last words?" She taunted.

"Raymond," Narula pleaded.

The night elf's hands were glowing with a warm green light as she bathed the energy of nature's purity over his ravaged body.

"Wake up. Your friends need you."

The paladin shook his head dusting off the layer of pain and embarrassment enveloping his body. He slowly pushed against the damaged wall and lifted himself to his feet.

"Thanks Narula."

Though consciousness had returned, the pain of the initial strike still lingered in his arm. Rayne surveyed the chaos before him and immediately sprang into action. He charged against the trio of banshees and assumed his command once more.

"They're binding him in place," Rayne called.

He drove his mace into the translucent skull of the first banshee in sight. The charged blast of light that echoed forth exploded upon impact. He expected to see the scourge witch dissipate into a traces of blue dust but it weathered the strike with little resistance. With every passing second the val'kyr's blade drew closer and closer to his short friend's tiny head.

"Cayden, see if you can stop that sword or slow it down at least!" Rayne directed.

"Will do!"

The mage leapt over the wooden railing and with a quick snap of his fingers clouds formed over his body slowing his descent. Cayden landed with a soft plop on the stone masonry below and rushed towards the opposing side of the altar. Misty piles of blue arcane energy gathered in his hands as the mage released a torrent of ice towards the descending blade. They fiercely shattered upon impact raining down tiny shards all over the platform.

"It's not working!" Cayden barked.

"Keep trying," replied Rayne as he sent another devastating blow against the shadowy blue frame of the banshee.

The warrior followed up with one of his own hefty swings and encountered similar resistance. They were slowly weakening with every attack but at their current pace, Weasel would be wearing the greatsword as a hat before they were able to free him.

"It's coming! It's coming!" The gnome shrieked in horror. His body desperately clawed from freedom while his eyes could not look away from certain death staring him in the face. "I swear if I die here tonight Rayne I'll haunt you forever! You'll never be able to sleep soundly ever again I promise you!"

"Pipe down you squeaky little sprocket, we're working on it!" The warrior shot back.

"Raymond! Marcus!"

Narula's call immediately got their attention. They quickly turned their gaze to the night elf who slammed both of her palms together in a heavy clap. Air began to swirl around her in a growing cyclone. Her hands separated as she aimed her palms towards the three wailing targets before her. The paladin and warrior knew what was coming and immediately dove to opposing sides of the altar. Their bodies crashed just before the drop of the stairs.

"Here it comes!" The gnome winced as the blade drew inches away from his face.

Air began to pick up speed. Narula directed them forward unleashing a grey gust of violent winds. The massive blast of air crashed into the banshees with the strength of a typhoon and sent them flying down the empty space of the room. Every violet whips of energy surrounding Weasel snapped off and faded into the dank dungeon atmosphere. With one last horrid wail the banshees faded from sight.

"Cayden!" Rayne shouted.

"On it!"

The mage vanished from sight leaving only residual traces of arcane dust where he once stood.

"I'm dead! I'm dead! I'm –"

Weasel's pleas were silence as his body became wrapped in Cayden's burning cloth robes. In another flicker of light, the two vanished from sight as the blade sunk into the altar. The wooden planks splintered and snapped against its foul strength. It continued to drill down reminding the Knights of their potential fate.

"She's disarmed!" Marcus called. "Finish her quickly."

Rayne quickly sprang to his feet. He tightened the grip on his heavy hammer. Light began to radiate within the hulking head. The paladin's eyes glowed with a similar golden power. He channeled the vast and holy essence burning within his soul into the weapon.

"Your end is inevitable," the val'kyr shouted. "Why do you continue to resist?!"

Svala flapped her hideous wings and charged the paladin. Rayne funneled every last bit of energy he could spare into the light swelling within the glowing hammer. With a boisterous roar he hurled the mace forward and let it loose towards the diving val'kyr. It spun frantically into the air streaking a trail of light in its wake. The head thunderously clashed against the grey armored husk of Svala's helm. She moaned in terror as light exploded from the sight of the impact cascading the warm light of the paladin's might over her demonic body. It burned through her radiating white flesh and melted her new form away as she continued to scream in agony.

"Nooo!" She pleaded. "I did not come this far... to..."

Her voice was silenced as the val'kyr faded into nothingness. A waft of cool air flowed into the room. The hideous aura of death surrounding this treacherous place vanished once and for all.

Rayne fell to his knees. Sweat beaded off his brown and sank into the wooden platform. Every delicious breath of air revitalized his being. This challenge nearly ended in travesty but like he initially anticipated, the Templar Knights had achieved their first victory.

"Way to go boss," Marcus winked. "Pretty clean kill if I do say so myself."

"Clean?!" The gnome scoffed. "That creepy bitch nearly turned me into a kabob all the while you idiots were dancing with those blue broads!"

"Minor detail," shrugged the warrior.

Their bickering infused the paladin with a touch of laughter. It was good to see them in such high spirits. He had already burdened them enough with his strategy. The least he could do was allow them to bask in their moment of glory.

"Such a shame," Cayden sighed. His eyes canvased the altar several times over. "It would have been nice to analyze such a device. The power to scry from long distances would be an efficient communications tool. Pity Weasel had to go and break it."

"Well excuse me for wanting to continue my measly existence!"

Rayne quietly laughed to himself. It was nice to see everyone back to their usual selves after a death-defying encounter. He rose to his knees and dusted off the splinters that lingered on the corners of his armor. The rogue and mage continued to argue as the paladin walked over and retrieved his trusty hammer. He hung it tightly on his waste and turned his eyes towards the new exit.

"Let's go guys. The final prize awaits."

The minor spat between his companions ended quickly. They followed their leader towards the door and steeled their minds in preparation for what's to come. Rayne wasn't sure what other surprises lurked within these ancient halls but he prayed that another surprise encounter with the Lich King would not present itself any time soon.

* * *

 _Runeweaver Square_

 _Dalaran_

Lorelei groaned upon arriving at One More Glass. Another pretty elven girl stood behind the counter polishing glasses and welcoming guests inside of their shop. This had to be Fialla. It didn't take a Kirin Tor scholar to notice a pattern unraveling itself amongst Rayne's acquaintances. Whether the young elf was just another statistic or something more continued to tug at her heart. She needed more information or, at the very least, find someone that will point her in the right direction.

"Greetings," the blonde high elf girl waved. "Welcome to One More Glass."

"Hello," Lorelei smiled back.

Maintaining her composure was proving quite the challenge when she was this close to the vendor. Her body was a lot thinner than and not as muscular as Lorelei's. The silk red dress she wore was a mark of elegance even with the obvious enticing cleavage hanging about in key areas. Most guys gawked and stared as they passed by. It's not like she could blame them. This woman was remarkable in nearly every aspect. How Rayne doesn't spend all of his time here is yet another mystery waiting to be solved.

"Can I help you find something young lady?"

The kind words of the vendor snapped Lorelei out of her trance. Any more thoughts like that would be too distracting in her quest.

"Actually, I was hoping to speak with you Fialla."

"Oh?" The high elf appeared stunned upon hearing her own name being called. "I'm sorry, but have we met before? I'm just surprised you know me by name. Usually only the guys would call me by my name before introducing themselves." Fiallia's expression started to darken as she immediately took on a defensive presence. "Wait, are you someone's boyfriend? Whatever it is, I didn't -"

"No," Lorelei continuously replied furiously shaking her hands back and forth.

This girl's popularity appeared to be more of a burden than a blessing.

"I was referred here by someone else. Aimee said you may be able to help me out."

"Really?" Fialla coyly asked followed by a relieving sigh. "I'm sorry. That happens more often than you think, but I digress. If Aimee recommended you here, you must be looking for a wine pairing for one of her desserts. Perhaps something light to accompany one of her decadent donuts? Or maybe something bold to compliment her rich chocolate cake."

"Well, actually –"

"Are you going to be serving some close friends? Family. Or," Fialla's lips curled into a small smirk as she leaned in and whispered, "Someone _special_?"

Redness began marching along the smooth alpines of her cream colored cheeks.

"Hmm," the vendor smiled. "I believe we can help you. So please, I want to know everything about this –"

"That's not it!" Lorelei interrupted.

Her shout was louder than originally planned but seemed to get the point across. She took a few quick and deep breaths to compose herself before moving on.

"I wanted to ask you if you knew where I could find someone."

"Is it _someone special_?" Fialla teased.

"Please stop!"

This was getting nowhere. The fact that Rayne would even consort with such an uncouth woman made matters all the more troubling.

"Alright, alright," the vendor laughed. "I'm sorry. You just looked so cute I thought it was obvious."

Something about this woman's presence bothered her. She had an overwhelming amount of confidence that continually forced the young elf to speak defensively. Thankfully the vendor was apt and breaking uncomfortable silences.

"So, who are you looking for little girl?"

This was it. Lorelei took a deep breath and composed herself. She had nothing to fear. All the young elf needed was just a little helpful information from a friendly vendor.

"He stopped by here a few days ago. His name is Rayne Temp –"

"Did you say Rayne?!"

The vendor's composure changed instantaneously from demure to infuriated. Tiny balls of flames bellowed within her glowing silver eyes. Fialla slammed her hands on the table and continued to press the young elf.

"Another one?" She scoffed. "And young to boot. I swear every time he comes by here two more cling on to him. It's very demoralizing –"

"Excuse me," Lorelei calmly interrupted. "But is Rayne really popular around here?"

Fialla sighed dejectedly.

"Unfortunately yes. Normally you'd be lucky if he stops by your shop. Other times, you need to get in line. Then again, things would be much easier if we were _her_."

"Her?"

The way the high elf spoke of that person carried a lot of disdain but was dominated by an overwhelming amount of jealousy.

"Oh you don't know?" Fialla shook her head. "If you want Rayne to look your way, you've got an advantage over a lot of the others. Your ear shape is close enough. It's just your skin that's the wrong color."

Lorelei was flabbergasted at the vendor's bold statement. Her mind tripped over every singly feasible response and couldn't find a solid one to stand on. Lorelei sifted through the confusing bits and focused right on the one part that mattered. It sent splinters into her rapidly beating heart.

"Does that mean he already has a –"

"You would think with the way he talks about her for hours on end," said the high elf. Her tone shifted from disappointed to emphatically condescending. "Sure he'll talk to us for a few minutes but as soon as he gets a chance, it's off to his precious _Narula_."

 _Narula?_

Lorelei made a mental note. That was indeed a very pretty name. The one person that had allegedly captivated him so much must be a sight to behold. Thoughts began to vividly take shape. She imagined a princess of some kind with hair more radiant than the finest games and a regal dress that shined with purity and grace. The woman became more and more beautiful with every moment that she spent in the young elf's mind. The young elf's resolve suddenly started to wan. It was as if a chasm were attempting to swallow her organs whole. Every answer she received was creating another set of questions that Lorelei was almost too afraid to ask.

"Who is Narula?"

The high elf raised her eyebrow.

"You mean you don't know? I thought if you two were friends you would've heard everything about her twice over by now."

"Of course we're friends!" Defended Lorelei.

The words came out of her mouth so fast that after she had a moment to think about it, she started to disbelieve it herself.

"It's just that…"

Her mind quickly formulated a clever ruse. A little bending of the truth wouldn't hurt anyone. She was so close to getting the next clue that all the young elf needed to do was appeal to Fialla's sympathy.

Lorelei took a second to breathe and compose herself.

"He saved my life the other day and I wanted to give him something as a thanks."

The young elf lifted the small bag of donuts as evidence of her story. It didn't take much to fool these highborns because the vendor appeared to have bought it hook, line, and sinker.

"Aren't you sweet?" Smiled Fialla. Her shoulders sagged soon afterwards. "I'm sorry but unfortunately I don't know where Rayne is now; only where he was going."

"Really?" The young elf perked up. "Where is that?"

"More than likely, he's with her now. She has a little place in –"

"Fialla!"

The stern voice of the shop's owner shut down their conversation. Lorelei shifted her startled eyes towards the entrance. A young man with bright orange hair stared intently at Fialla with a fine bottle of wine firmly gripped in both hands.

"What is it Lucian?" The high elf replied.

Her voice had gotten softer and more submissive. That man must rule this place with an iron first.

"I need you to help Christi with inventory. A few bottles of Aged Red have gone missing."

"Yes sir."

The high elf didn't even put up a word of defense. She turned towards Lorelei and sent her off with one last smile.

"Good luck little one," Fialla winked before disappearing within the depths of the shop.

Anger stewed within the young elf. She was seconds away from completing another piece of this endless puzzle but was instantly stopped by a commoner; a human no less. Despite her feelings for one member of their race in particular, this one proved that her initial teachings were correct. No matter where you go in Azeroth, a human's always bound to be neck deep in the thick of trouble.

"Can I help you girl?"

It came out as more of a statement than a question. He didn't want her here almost as much as Lorelei wanted to leave immediately. The young elf shook her head and slowly faded into the moving crowd behind her. She had come so close and yet to be denied so bluntly was like trying to swallow a dire flail whole.

This minor setback only fueled her desire to press on. Someone is bound to know something vital. Lorelei didn't care what it took. No matter what stood in her way, the young elf knew she just had to see him again.


	14. Chapter 13

_Trophy Hall_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

The vrykul resistance was tougher than Rayne anticipated. He expected to encounter a few occasional packs of guards but the monumental wave after wave of enemies after they exited the observance hall proved to be nothing short of an endurance trail. The last fifteen minutes had taken a lot out of everyone. The paladin allowed his companions a moment to rest at the top of the stairs before proceeding into the next room.

"It's all quiet boss," Weasel reported.

His brush with near death didn't appear to faze the gnome anymore as he continued to scout ahead.

"We're clear to proceed."

"Alright," Rayne replied. "Let's keep moving then."

The Templar Knights walked into the room. A large vrykul ship suspended above by giant black chains was the first thing to catch their eye but not the most impressive by far. Five towering statues decorated this long hallway. All of them were amongst some of the largest beasts found in this continent. A worgen and furblog stood on opposing sides near the entrance. Their white fur signified the creatures' evolutionary history and residence in the frozen continent. Not too far behind them was a jormungar. This snake like creature had been the bane of many adventurer's existence since arriving on the shores of Northrend. Their muscular bodies had rows of crystalline spines along both flanks. A gigantic rhino looked ready to charge on the other side. Its piercing white horn was taller than even Marcus himself.

At the end of the hall stood the most bravura piece of them all. The magnataur was a sight to behold. It was half giant, half mammoth, and one of the most efficient killing machines on this corner of the globe. While most of them are deadly by themselves, this race of monsters was most effective hunting in raids. Thankfully, there didn't appear to be any more of these tall brutes within this room. The only thing left was a large glowing red orb sat atop an ornamental column in the back corner of the room.

"Whoa," the amazed gnome gasped. "Check out this place."

"The king likes to hunt?" Marcus admired. "Kind of weird to keep their whole bodies as trophies."

"Obviously," Cayden replied as he moved in towards the worgen for a closer examination. "Though it is odd. There doesn't appear to be any gaping wounds or gashes on these creatures."

"I think a king could afford a decent taxidermist," teased Weasel.

"Cayden is right," Narula added. She pressed her ear against the jormungar's large belly. "It's feint but I sense something within."

Rayne approached the magnataur with great curiosity. The tip of its large spear was twice the size of the paladin. He barely reached the creatures knees and yet it stood here completely frozen as a prize of sorts. King Ymiron must be a formidable opponent if he was able to quell such a beast without severely damaging it. The paladin made sure to keep this in mind during their inevitable confrontation. There aren't a lot of people who have engaged a magnataur a lived to tell the tale let alone someone brave and skilled enough to have one stuffed on display.

"Something's not right," the mage stated.

His hands started to glow with flickers of arcane energy as he examined the statues. The magically aided inspection would help clear up any outlying mysteries held within.

"These things smell fresh," Marcus replied with his nose buried within the rhino's fur.

"There's a door leading outside," the paladin pointed. "Maybe it's best we just leave these things undisturbed and move on. There's nothing for us –"

"GEM!"

The gnome leapt atop the glowing red orb and stretched his tiny arms and legs across the surface. It was warm and completely smooth to the touch. He could barely wrap himself halfway along its circumference but knew that he never wanted to let it go. Red light danced within the confines of the dense orb sending him into a dazed trance. Just thinking about what this gem could buy made him salivate in pure delight.

"Weasel! Get off of there you wingless pigeon."

The warrior's sour gaze did not appear to affect Weasel in the slightest.

"Marcus is right," Cayden replied. "Perhaps we should –oh no…"

The orb slowly lifted from the pedestal. It stood in the air unassisted with the gnome still gripping its shining exterior. Everyone's eyes drew towards the floating rogue as he traveled towards the center of the room with his glorious prize in tow.

"Weasel you idiot!" The mage barked. "That's a stasis generator! It's an arcane confinement device."

"Who hit who in the what now?" The puzzled gnome replied. His inquisitive stare flipped to rage upon deciphering the cryptic words of his robed companion. "Oh no! I saw it first, get your own –"

The gnome's threats instantly ceased as he began wailing in horror. A bolt of red and black arcane energy struck him squarely in the chest and shocked every inch of his tiny body. Vibrant snaps and pops echoed alongside his screams as the mystical ray began to singe the finely crafted joints and studs of his armor. His body shook defiantly but could no longer stand the sheer torment being produced by his lovely treasure. Weasel released his grip from the orb and plopped to the ground with a miniscule thud.

"This can't be good," groaned Marcus.

The mage sighed.

"It gets worse…"

Four whips of energy shoot out of the orb. Their thunderous cracks vibrated the surrounding stone walls. Each bolt slammed and immediately wrapped around the four statues. The red energy continues to crack and radiate like lightning for a few more moments as the orb glows brighter and brighter. Violently blaring beeps begin to cackle at the paladin. He lowered his goggles and turned it to the threat assessment setting. Oddly enough, the orbs' hazard reading was sitting on green. It was the warning just beneath it that stirred Rayne's emotions beyond comprehension.

 _Detonation Imminent_.

"Get down!"

The Templar Knights dropped to the ground simultaneously as razor-sharp glass shards exploded from the orb. The vibrant booming sound shook them to their cores. Tiny vicious fragments crashed into various parts of the wall leaving only specs of clear dust behind. Rayne's shield kept his head protected from the blast but he was essentially blind in this position. There was no way of knowing if they were out of danger yet. It didn't stop the paladin from calling out to his teammates.

"Are you guys al – "

His voice was immediately overshadowed by a hideous roar. Rayne lifted the bulwark and saw a sea of red clouding his goggles. All four statues began to animate. Their bindings had been released and shackles freed. A dreadful stillness fell into the pit of the paladin's gut as they began to move from their pedestals and approach.

"Everyone fan out!" The paladin ordered. They quickly rose to their feet as their leader relayed additional instructions. "Pick a corner and stick with it. And don't – "

The shock of seeing Marcus and Cayden collide together silenced his commands. The worgen was the first to strike taking a wide swipe at the mage but luckily, he had been forced to his knees by the unexpected warrior. The four Knights quickly seized the attention of each creature but with the limited fighting space available, their backs would be against the walls sooner or later.

Weasel was rapidly on the move. The shock of his previous trifle still resonated as his dashes were clunky and uncoordinated. Thankfully the furblog wasn't adept at catching small prey. The rogue led him down towards the south end of the room and continually swayed and ducked against the rancorous beast's attacks.

Thankfully Narula was fairing much better. She peppered the jormungar with rhythmic blasts of silver light infused with nature's wrath. They didn't do much in terms of damage but it was more than adept at keeping the monster at bay. Every explosion of energy pushed the snake-like fiend back a few feet and slowed its hungering advance.

That just left Marcus and Cayden. The paladin knew the elder warrior could hold his own even against a fierce rhino looking to impale him with every passing second. Marcus slammed his mace into the creature's horn. The blow knocked the beast back a couple of feet but that only gave him additional room to wind up and deliver another fierce strike. However, the mage was not used to this style of combat. Rayne needed to make sure he got out of melee and away from the furious slashes of the eager worgen. Cayden needed time to cast his spells but barely found time to breathe let alone conjure.

"Marcus! Cayden!" Rayne shouted. "Switch!"

The news was music to the mage's ears. His body instantly vanished from sight and reappeared next to the warrior trailing a line of arcane dust behind him.

"You're it," Cayden smiled while nudging his companion backwards.

Marcus turned around and raised his weapon just in time to catch all six worgen claws bearing down upon his exposed flesh. The mace screeched as each nail dug itself deeper and deeper into its titansteel hide. Try as he might, the warrior didn't have the strength to match his furry adversary. His legs bent and knees sank further towards the ground against the worgen's might.

The mage was easily contending with his new opponent. The rhino lacked the speed and ferocity of the worgen which gave Cayden ample amounts of time to prepare a quick binding spell. The moisture in the air started to glow and fill his raised hand with a ball of light blue mist. He gripped the snowball force of arcane energy between his thumb and index finger. With a quick snap the elemental force burst from his core unleashing a wave of frost. Quick forming mounds of frost bound the rhino where he stood and delayed the threat of its charged.

A smile gradually took shape on the paladin's lips. They were initially caught off guard but things have quickly turned in their favor. It may take some time to put these beasts down permanently but, as always, Rayne had faith they could see it through. He clasped the mace hanging from his hip and prepared to charge and join the fray.

"What is this place?!" A ferocious voice shouted.

The terrifying growl of the momentous sound sent shivers down the paladin's backside that even the darkest of winters could not compete with.

Rayne quickly turned around and brought his shield up just in time to catch the savage spear strike from the once frozen magnataur. The thick steel barrier thankfully absorbed most of the blow but his arm would not soon forget this monster's immense strength. He couldn't believe how easily he let his guard down. The other four statues came to life after they were hit with that beam. This beast must have come alive during that explosion though it was hard to tell while cowering under the safety of his Templar crested bulwark.

The beast drove down another powerful jab while shouting, "I will destroy you!

The paladin didn't need to hear that twice to know it was serious. This combat fiasco would have been a lot more manageable if the numbers odds were still in their favor. With those now even, the size game was completely against them and they now had to contend with battling all of these creatures individually instead of as a composed unit.

Steel cried out yet again as the magnataur pushed Rayne back with a forceful stab. Each strike was more powerful than the last. Dust spilled forward kicking up bits of debris as his plate greaves skid along the stone floor. He had gained a bit of distance from the monster but it didn't make him feel any safer than he was moments prior. The magnataur leaned on its massive hind legs and raised the spear on high. It was preparing to deliver a devastating strike with the added weight and height it was genetically granted. The beast let out another fearsome roar once it reached the peak of its climb.

There was no way Rayne could survive a direct hit. His shield had already taking a decent enough pounding from the three previous attacks. This is what all of his hundreds of thousands of previous victims must have felt the moment they perished. The paladin had spent years hunting the undead never once knowing how it would feel to be on the other side. That painful thought had finally taken over and it may very well be his last. The hunter had finally become the hunted.

A blindingly bright light bulb exploded in his mind. They were doing this all wrong. There was no need to take them all out at once when they had a skilled killer amongst them. It would be risky but if successful, this painful encounter would end in a heartbeat. All they needed to do was give the magnataur a push in the right direction.

"Narula!" Rayne cried while hurling his shield at the open maw of the jormungar.

The night elf immediately disengaged as ordered. She moved towards the center of the room and prepared to provide additional firepower to assist her other companions. The spinning projectile radiated powerful streaks of light as it traveled. The creature hissed upon impact and without the added pressure of the constant barrage, it quickly slithered to his position ready and hungry.

The paladin dove forward catching the shield upon its return. He slid underneath the gigantic magnataur as his front legs thunderously came down. They quaked the ground on both sides Rayne's body. Each hoof landed just inches away from his skull.

A ferocious howl erupted as the spear pierced the jormungar's skull. It flailed in the magnataur's grip desperately trying to disengage. Acidic green blood painted the hall as it slipped deeper and deeper into the darkness of death. The paladin kicked himself forward and slid out from under the mammoth's backside. He pushed himself up just as the jormungar's lifeless carcass fell to the ground.

The magnataur ripped its spear from the creature's husk and immediately began searching for its former pray. Rayne knew they were running out of time and running would be the next step in his plan.

"Cayden," he cried while dashing towards the mage. "I could use a lift."

"No problem," smiled Cayden.

The mage's fingers danced in the air and quickly shaped a feather made up of shining ambient energy. With one flick of his wrist the conjured object shot out and struck the paladin square in the chest.

Rayne's hefty plate armor suddenly became as light as the air itself. His body began to glow with a crystalline hue. It couldn't have come any sooner. The magnataur howled as it slammed its hooves to the ground and prepared to charge. It gave chase to the paladin as they raced south towards the growingly agitated rhino. Even with the added magical spell he still wasn't as fast as a four legged monster. The magnataur quickly cut the distance between them and readied its spear for another colossal strike.

Rayne leapt into the air. He soared above the thrashing rhino desperately trying to break the icy shackles from its feet. Toes kissed the back of its fur as the paladin landed safely on the other side. His feet skid to a short stop while the shield came up to brace for the inevitably forceful impact.

Another foul cry echoed into the room. The spear impaled clean through the furry beast's hide. Blood exploded through the freshly punctured wound and struck the center of the Templar crest. Rayne was sprayed by the quick burst of the crimson colored fluid but thankfully his shield absorbed most of the mess. The spear poked his steel barrier for only a brief moment but it carried enough force to slide the paladin back a few inches.

Rage spewed from the magnataur's maw. He hoisted the freshly killed rhino over his head and tossed the fatty husk into the northern corner of the room. The crashed echoed with a violent wave that immediately caught everyone's attention. Nothing stood between the magnataur and the paladin now.

"Rayne!" Shouted the warrior.

The paladin turned his head towards Marcus. He was still parrying the furiously quick attacks of the worgen. Each slash sliced deep into everyone's ears and left a painful ringing as a going away present. The worgen raised both claws high into the air. Each nail was begging to taste the soft flesh of his short adversary.

A grin formed on the warrior's lips. He spun to the side extending his mace as he traveled. The heavy mallet slammed into the lower spine of the worgen. It howled in agony as the added forced of the swing pushed the beast forward. The claws began their quick decent hoping to catch it before it stumbled to the ground.

Rayne was now caught between two large monsters charging at him. Whatever Marcus was planning did not carry the same subtly or finesse of anything demonstrated prior. Logic was cast aside for instincts. He dove to the side praying he didn't become the filling of a deadly sandwich. Plate screeched against the unforgiving stone floor upon landing. The paladin swiftly turned his head and caught the claws of the worgen digging into the magnataur's chest.

Trails of thick blood painted the halls. The magnataur roared in violent torment as his chest was ripped apart by six large slashes. A look of disdain quickly formed on the worgen's face. Its former ferocious stance had been cast aside. The sticky crimson liquid coating its hands was still warm to the touch.

A massive hand reached out and seized the head of the worgen. The beast clasped the magnataur's trunk sized arm and desperately tried to free itself. Every second it remained in the half-mammoth's grip was worse than the one prior. Thick fingers dug into the worgen's eyes mashing them within the wells of the sockets. Bones turned to pudding in the magnataur's hand. With one final squeeze the gigantic monster silenced the puny resistance and crushed the worgen's skull.

The headless beast collapsed to the ground. Thin tissues of bone and brain matter coated the magnataur's closed blue fist. His own blood continued to drain and stain the surface below slowly drowning the worgen's corpse.

A malicious roar escaped through the enormous beast's lungs. The magnataur rose again and stood on its hind legs.

"He's getting ready to charge," called Cayden.

Everyone dispersed to the back of the room. There was still one creature left to contend with besides the rearing magnataur. Its attention seemed to be fully encapsulated with attempting to catch its next slippery meal.

"Weasel?!" Marcus yelled. "Are you still dancing with that thing?"

"Not by choice!" Pleaded the gnome. "No one's helping me!"

Rayne locked eyes with Marcus as another sinister smirk formed.

"Just stay there," Marcus smiled. "Keep low to the ground."

"You're really going to tease me about my height at a time like this you ass?!"

"Do as he says Weasel!" Rayne ordered.

The Templar Knights gathered in behind the furblog heatedly clawing at the gnome. Their backs were positioned towards the back of the south wall. Rayne stood in front of everyone and lifted his shield in the standard defensive position.

"Get ready."

Another cry exited the magnataur's maw much more feverish than the last. His front legs slammed to the ground shaking the room once more. The beast kicked back and began the speedy charge towards his collective prey.

"Everyone hold," commanded the paladin.

They stood firmly in their positions while staying slightly crouched behind the small window of protection being held in Rayne's arm. The magnataur continued its blitz though not as fast as it had shown before but still tremendously agile. Each hideous thump drew closer and closer to their position. The paladin gritted his teeth and hoped for the best as he gave the final order.

"Move!"

"I thought you said stay –"

The gnome's cries were drowned by the resonating collision above. The magnatuar brought up its monstrous shoulder and crashed into the south wall. Large chunks of ancient masonry began to spill from the sight of impact.

Rayne picked himself off the ground several feet away from ground zero and enjoyed a quick breath of relief that the plan had actually worked. The rest of his companions followed suit looking no worse for wear.

The magnataur slowly dragged its hide from the newly created indentation. His shoulder was marred with scratches and blood though not all of it his own. The motionless husk of the furblog became the walls newest decoration. Its body was nearly flattened upon impact. The once radiant white fur was now soaked in blood.

"Will someone get me out of here?!" Begged the gnome.

His body was conveniently trapped between the furblogs backside and the magnatuar's encroaching front.

"It smells like Marcus after sex with an orc and tauren love child!"

"You little shit!" The warrior spat. "I'll drown you in it!"

A flash of green light exploded high into the air. The magnataur winced against the blinding magnitude. A trail of smoke led to the northern part of the room. Rayne's hand mounted pyro launcher was aimed at the final monstrosity.

The paladin took a deep breath. His eyes lingered towards the night elf. Even through the thick lenses of his goggles she could still read his thoughts. Rayne gave her a knowing nod and returned his focus towards the magnataur.

Tides had shifted in their favor. It was no coincidence that the beast's speed had dropped. He had already lost a lot of blood and more of it was continuing to spill from the two sets of parallel abrasions on his chest. The furblong's back had soaked up quite a bit and with every movement, strain, and flex it drained onto the hard stone floor.

The magnatuar released a hellish roar. Air burned within his lungs. He blatantly ignored everyone surrounding him and went right to the source of his misery. The flare that grazed his cheek was the final straw. Rayne made sure to lock eyes with it before lowering his hand and securing the engineering device back in the gauntlet.

Bloody debris kicked from underneath the hoof. The magnatuar charged ahead spilling vital fluid with each deafening step. Rayne did not pick his shield up nor did his stance waver. He eyed the fowl beast seemingly uninterested in the very threat of death approaching.

"Now Narula!"

Vines spat forth from the cracks and corners of the east and west walls. They quickly grew to nearly a foot thick in diameter and tied together in the center of hall. The magnataur kicked the entangling during the sprint. His body no longer carried the strength to destroy the magical branch. A thunderous splat followed as the beast fell face first into the stone floor. The residual velocity continued to carry his weakened body down the hallway. It skid to a slow halt within easy reach of the paladin.

Try as he might, the magnataur could barely move his arms let alone push himself off the ground. All of his strength had drained which was apparent in the wide streak of blood trailing behind. The magnataur huffed cloying desperately for each breath. Air painfully entered his lungs at a slowing pace. His hands pushed against the stone floor one last time but to no avail. The strain from his final effort took the last remaining moment of life afforded to him as he silently collapsed for the last time.

Rayne took pleasure in his next deep breath. A smile appeared on the paladins chipper expression. He gave his companions the thumbs up of approval before taking an additional moment to catch up on his breathing.

"Cutting it a little closer there, eh kid?" Marcus winked.

The paladin shook his head.

"I planned that the entire time," he stated through a soft laugh. "Though I knew I could count on Narula to make sure is didn't become a second ornament on the wall like that furblog."

"You are too reckless Raymond," the night elf sighed.

She walked over to the paladin and graciously ran her hands around his armor inspecting him for any outlying injuries before the adrenaline in his body wears off and finds them the hard way.

"Imagine what could have happened to you."

"Yea," the warrior grinned. "I'd hate to see how many heads would turn when I'm singing at your funeral."

"Please don't joke like that," Narula scolded.

Whenever her temperament dropped by a hair it forced everyone to be serious and pay attention even for a a brief moment.

"Let the kid bask in a little glory once and a while," Marcus countered. "Besides, he's getting a pretty decent reward for bravery if I do say so myself."

Narula's head turn slightly while finishing up the examination of Rayne's body. An eyebrow raised as she attempted to inquire what the warrior meant without actually asking directly.

"Although, something is a bit fishy," Cayden pondered.

His fingers gently stroked the flaming red tuft of hair nestled on his chin.

"I think you're right kid," smiled Marcus. "Usually he turns to putty when Narula gets his hands on him. Why are you staying so composed?"

Marcus wrapped his beefy arm around the paladin' collar and tugged him into a tight headlock.

"When did you get so confident? Have you been cheating on our fair maiden? Com'on, out with it…"

"Please," the paladin besought through mumbled coughs.

If it weren't for the adrenaline still coursing through his lungs he might have let something slip. Marcus had no idea how close he danced with the truth given Rayne's recent historical visit.

"It's not what you think."

"Now your face is turning red!" Laughed the warrior. "This is more like it."

"You rat bastards!"

The gnome exploded from underneath the furblogs rotting flesh. He stomped towards the group slamming down each boot as if they carried the weight of mountains.

"Were you just going to leave me in there to die?!" He pouted. "I've been insulted in my day but never have I –"

Marcus picked up the tiny creature in his firm grip and brought Weasel to everyone's eye level.

"You're damn right we should leave you here you micro-minded moron," Marcus spat. "Your stupidity caused this mess in the first place."

Weasel attempted to interject but silenced his words when he saw the look of derision on the rest of his teammates. This battle could have been completely avoided and they made sure to let him know just how they felt through their eyes alone. It was a hard less to learn for this gnome. Some things really are too good to be true. Then again, you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

"It was a gem twice my size, what would you have done?!"

The uncomfortable silence was broken by the eruption of laughter. Despite any hardships they may face, the Templar Knights always find a way to come together when they need it most. Whatever challenges faced them next would truly not be prepared to face their unified front.

* * *

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

 _Wintergrasp_

Jean peered through the newly delivered scouting reports. He compared it with the map of Wintergrasp provided by his new subordinates and began outlining the data provided.

"The Alliance has already set up engineering workshops?"

"At these four points," the tactician officer confirmed.

Kilrath was much more open to discussion than some of his other orc brethren. Age does impart wisdom after all. His brown skin meant that he was much more of a delight to deal with than the green skinned variety. The mag'har orcs were some of the few that escaped the corruption from drinking the pit lord Mannoroth's blood. It was refreshing to see they still honored some of the more noble tribes of their race.

"Have we made any attempts to infiltrate or sabotage their operations?"

"Yes," replied Kilrath. Remorse bathed on his tongue. "They have them heavily guarded. All of our scouting teams that have attempted to go in further have either been imprisoned or killed."

That struck the Commander as odd. Based on the current reports, the Horde had more than enough manpower to seize control of this entire area. They should have had no issues taking control of a few small pieces of land. Something wasn't adding up.

"Where are the rest of our men? My initial reports showed a contingent force of over a thousand and yet there are barely two hundred manning our gates and prepping the defenses."

"Overlord Hellscream hand selected the finest amongst our unit to plunder the vault," the orc replied. "Teams have been cycling in and out for the last week. The vault guardians continue to give the soldiers trouble. We haven't heard any reports of treasure within but the Overlord is certain that something valuable lies inside, otherwise, they wouldn't put up such a tough resistance."

"And what of our defenses here?" Jean remained firm but did not let anger get in the way of his emotions. "I'm going to have to establish a resistance with two hundred ready men and another eight-hundred worth of tired and broken. I may as well pack up and go home this instant," scoffed the Commander "Are they simply willing to just give this fortress up in the mere pursuit of treasure?"

"That was our main purpose here Commander," Kilrath replied.

The situation was getting worse with every passing moment. Jean couldn't believe what he'd been stuck with. Failure was almost guaranteed unless they could put up a reasonable defense.

"Can we postpone their mission to aid in the protection of this fortress?"

"There is no way of knowing when the Alliance are mounting their attack. We would need at least twenty-four hours to get at least half of the men ready for battle. If the Overlord finds out you delayed them prior…"

"Yes," interrupted Jean. "I know."

Garrosh Hellscream was not as forgiving as the Horde Warchief Thrall. Insubordination was never tolerated and the non-orc races were put under special scrutiny. This assignment was so bad it almost appeared to be a staged setup. Around every corner lurked a new issue that created more anxiety for the Commander. This could mean one of two things. They either wanted Jean to fail or they knew success was so unlikely that they desired someone to pin the blame on whose skin color wasn't green, brown, or blue.

If the orc Overlord was expecting Jean to fail he would be sorely disappointed. He's fought in much dire situations with more on the line than any bits of gold or armor could replace. Every problem had a solution. It was just a matter of finding it in ample time.

"Our workshops will be key to our success. How long until they are fully operational?"

"The goblins have mentioned they should be repaired within the next three days," responded Kilrath. "How many men would you like stationed at each?"

"Just one."

"One?!"

The Commander nodded. He didn't expect such a flabbergasted reaction from a subordinate but his statement was far from what many considered to be normal let alone within the realm of sanity.

"We need to concentrate our efforts on delaying the assault. If we can capture or destroy the Alliance workshops, then it wouldn't matter how many men come at our walls. There is no way they will be getting in here without siege vehicles. That is why we will be using those points as offensive measures only."

"But," Kilrath begrudgingly began. "What if our walls get breached? The workshops will be exposed and fall within seconds."

"If our walls go down we will have far more to worry about than a couple of destroyed buildings," countered Jean. "That is why we only need two men to protect them. I do not want to out rule the potential for sabotage by a lone group of soldiers. If needed, we can easily funnel more men from the inner walls to assist but for now, I only want two."

"Which two would you like Commander?"

"I will leave that to you Officer Kilrath," Jean stated. "Bring me the two finest warriors in our lot or elsewhere if need be. I don't care if they're mercenary, soldier, or adventurer."

"Yes Commander."

Kilrath saluted his superior and made haste towards the soldier encampment. With the extra time allotted Jean began to read through their intelligence one more time. It was like staring at a bad dream that only got progressively worse. He would have more to risk than his life if he made the wrong mood. Their entire livelihood depended on his constant success. The absolute last thing he ever wanted to do was let her down.

The Commander's thoughts drifted towards another blonde haired fellow. His words still lingered throughout the blood elf's mind. Perhaps a bit of hopeless optimism would be welcomed at a time like this. If he were truly capable of creating the world he dreamed of, Jean would welcome the opportunity to take a small glimpse.

* * *

 _Ymiron's Seat_

Utgarde Pinnacle

The King's throne was unusually busy in the last couple of days. There was nothing Ymiron wanted more than to rest blissfully atop his comfortable chair undisturbed. Unfortunately circumstances dictated otherwise and he was yet again in the presence of the nosey darkfallen and his penchant for constant chatter.

"Get on with it," the King hissed under a heavy breath.

"As I've said," Keleseth coughed. "We have met resistance at Valgarde as initially anticipated. About two hundred soldiers have been encountered at their gates. They are not the typical Alliance lot we've been dealing with recently. Their banners and tabards represent another faction entirely. The Valliance Expedition appear to be keeping themselves out of this conflict for the time being."

This advisor makes sure to use every word imaginable to say the simplest things. He was lucky Ymiron did not fall asleep in his chair halfway through.

"What are we doing about it?"

The moans of the King pushed through the thick cracks of his teeth. Even his breath carried a bit of vehemence to it.

"The Dragonflayers were dispatched and so far have held back the invaders rather effortlessly. I do not have the current death counts or captures but it appears many of the combatants are fleeing the battlefield in the thick of it. If this pace keeps up we should have them all routed within a half an hour."

Another dirty breath coughed through Ymiron's lungs. He was pleased to hear things were going so smoothly but something still nagged at him. Keleseth would not be here to report just good news. There had to be another factor that begged the King's attention.

"And," Ymiron sighed. He took another deep breath before finishing, "Templar…?"

"Right," nodded the Overlord. "It appears Rayne has taken a small squad of soldiers and invaded the pinnacle of the keep. He may be attempting to challenge you and the throne directly though that is merely speculation. However, our initial reports have been deemed accurate. His team is aloof, clumsy, and has relied on luck greater than skill in their journey thus far."

The Prince was great with words but his demeanor needed work. He was trying to hide something very small by saying more than what was necessary. It didn't take a King's ancient wisdom to see that. He was just very bored and wanted this to end.

"Where is he now?" Ymiron spoke. His body had become jolted with energy. Every word had more power behind it than the last. "Why haven't you brought me his head?"

"As I've said King Ymiron," the darkfallen replied. "Luck appears to be on their side. They have already made it past Svala in the observance hall and accidentally triggered the stasis generator in your trophy room. The beasts attacked but through a series of random circumstances, they managed to survive and are now on their way to Eagle's Eye."

The King groaned. It didn't matter how they managed to do it; luck, skill, or otherwise but they still pressed on. Death is still death. It doesn't matter if it was intended or not. The end result would still be the same. Ymiron was through playing games with them. Keleseth's intelligence be damned. It was time to bring out their big guns.

"Skadi," susurrated the King.

Skadi the Ruthless was a frost vrykul and Ymiron's most trusted warrior. He was blessed with the gift of undeath and commanded the squad of undead vrykul warriors within the most secured area of this fortress.

"Gather his men. All the undead." The ire drawn by Ymiron's words were thick. "Stop them this instant."

"As you wish King Ymiron," bowed the darkfallen. "I will pass on your message immediately and return to my study in the keep below. I have a few other pressing matters from _my_ king that beg for attention."

The darkfallen quickly retreated from the king's seat. Ymiron returned to his labored breathing and hoped to get a few more moments of rest before being disturbed once again. Whether it be by the heroes or the reporting of their deaths did not matter. The king was very tired and all he wanted to do was rest. Thoughts of invaders ransacking his home did not allow him to slip blissfully into rest. It only served to ignite his growing furnace of rage.


	15. Chapter 14

_Eagle's Eye_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

The gnome let out a powerful sneeze.

"Yuck, who designed this dump anyways? First we're indoors, then we're out. You'd think you'd want to stay nice and toasty on this continent but no –"

"Shut it Weasel," Marcus scoffed.

"This doesn't appear to be like the last hallway we encountered," the mage commented. "Though the distance is approximately the same, it seems we are on the east side of the keep."

"Oh yea, look at that," Weasel cheerfully called while running towards the edge. "You can see that friggn' river that we almost froze to death in."

"Are you ever going to let that go?" Sighed the warrior.

"Not likely," Rayne chirped. "Unless his sour memories ever manifest and transform into three foot gems that is."

"Are you ever going to let that go?!" The gnome barked.

For the first time since they entered this fortress, the Templar Knights shared in a minor bit of laughter. The walkway was very similar to the encampment they had once traversed. Snow lined the rims and corners in heaping piles. Thick masonry stood highly throughout the first half of the open hallway. It showed signs of a historic battle that once took place here long ago.

"We should be careful," the night elf interjected. "The air has grown colder but I am not sensing a change in weather."

"That's funny," remarked Weasel while leaning over the edge. "You must be standing too close to Marcus' black heart."

"Weasel!" Marcus spat. He dashed towards the gnome and clutching the tiny rogue in his massive grip. "If you want a better look at that river, allow me to help."

Their bickering was immediately overshadowed by the sudden burst of air that fell over them. A huge blue dragon soared above and continued north at a rapid pace. The vrykul riding atop it was no slouch in the size department either. His skin was similarly colored as the drake he commanded. Large plates of scale armor wrapped around his chest and waist. Thick tufts of fur hung over his shoulders. Leather straps winded around his gauntlets and boots. A massive bronze colored mace with several sharp protrusions hung on his back. Atop his massive skull sat a full plate helm. Razor sharp horns hung from opposing sides. The bright glowing hue of his eyes pierced through the shadows and glared down that the approaching Knights.

"What mongrels dare intrude here?" The vrykul taunted.

He lifted his weapon on high and continued hollering.

"Look alive, my brothers! A feast for the one that brings me their heads!"

Dozens of undead vrykul began pouring out of the opening ahead. Their maws hung open staining the path as they moved with large globs of phlegm and saliva. Many carried thick spears while others relied simply on their new forms enhanced strength to kill their prey.

"We need to move," Rayne ordered. He drew his mace and slammed it in the center of his shield. "Now!"

The paladin charged forth. Light began to radiate within the steel barrier. It grew immensely with every step he took. Brilliant golden energy enveloped the pathway in a cone-shaped bullet that stampeded towards the mass of undead minions.

Narula leapt ahead. Her form began to shift in stride. Purple fur manifested around her body as she reduced in size. Paws replaced her hands and feet and her once elegant face and morphed into the vicious shape of a snarling puma. She easily kept pace with the paladin who unfortunately could only run on two legs.

"Weasel! Marcus!" The mage shouted. "You're going to be left behind!"

"What?!" The duo replied.

Their simultaneous shock was heightened as their magic infused companion disappeared from sight and instantly appeared running only a few feet behind everyone else on the opposite side of the hallway.

The hellish cries of the undead echoed into the frozen air. Rayne blitzed forward mowing down rotting vrykul one after the other. The light burned against their decaying flesh sending them into new levels of agony even the initial taste of death could not compare. Every hit against the paladin's shield tested his strength but he did not waver.

"The exit's approaching," called the mage between breaths. "Just through the portcullis."

"Right," Rayne replied. He focused the light brewing within his core. With one mighty stomp he unleashed a wave of yellow energy that shook the ground beneath their feet. The undead's sloppy dexterity faltered against the raging blast and sent them flat on their backs. A clear path to the exit had been temporarily granted.

"Nicely done," Cayden applauded.

"Let's go!" The paladin ordered.

Rayne stepped through the entrance first. He stood by the opening with the shield pressed forward ready to protect himself and his companions from any more minions that should happen to get back to their feet.

The night elf jumped towards Rayne while morphing back to her original form. The furry hide retreated behind the confines of the leather armor. Her vivacious figure had returned in the blink of an eye as she pressed her back against the wall behind the safe confines of the paladin's defensive stance. Cayden didn't trail too far behind. He entered seconds after Narula and sunk into the shadows of the passageway with his flaming robes providing ambient light.

"Marcus! Weasel!" Rayne cried. "Hurry up!"

Loud grunts pressed along the path. The warrior exerted every ounce of energy he had. His small passenger was still firmly clutched in is hand and swayed back and forth during the continuous sprint.

"I'm. Getting. Dizzy." Whined the gnome between swings.

"Shut your gasket!" Marcus spat.

Labored groans started rising from the ground. The hoard of undead vrykul began lifting their bodies off the ground. The taint of light still burned on their scarred flesh. Marcus raced through the mob kicking the few that had started to get too close. The exit was just a few long strides away.

"Come on!" Hailed Rayne.

Trails of dust kicked from the path. Heavy plate leggings slapped together in a metallic crunch as Marcus approached. The paladin reached out towards him begging the light to grant them the speed they needed to escape the approaching undead squad. They were almost there. If only his arm were just a little longer.

"Raymond!"

Metal furiously slammed against the stone floor. Rayne's body landed cruelly against the ground. A pair of delicate purple hands were tightly clutching his chest. Narula kept him firm within her grasp. The portcullis had crashed to the ground unexpectedly. Thick steel bars separated them from the frozen pathway and their allies.

"Marcus!"

The paladin rushed to his feet and wrapped his hands around the bars. Light exuded from his eyes as he desperately tried to push the gate up. His teeth gritted against one another. Muscles stretched beyond their known limits but unfortunately, the bars did not waver. Strenuous cries ripped through his lungs as he continued unaffected by his lack of progress.

"Give it up Rayne," the warrior sighed.

He peered through the grating at the rest of his comrades knowing full well what this situation meant. The undead vrykul had returned to their feet and began steadily approaching their position.

"Just go."

"No," panted the paladin. "We can still –"

"I don't know what's more insulting," Marcus stated while turning his back to Rayne and taking a firm grasp of his heavy mace. "The fact that you don't trust me enough to handle a few of these undead dingbats on my own," he began.

The warrior nodded his head as he finished.

"Or that you would send me off with such a silly look on your face."

The vile expression of the undead vrykul suddenly embedded itself within the iron gate. Marcus' mace firmly greeted the back of its disgusting skull with a bone-shattering crunch.

"We've got this!" The warrior cried while swinging the weapon into another approaching vrkul jaw. "Go!"

"Rayne," the mage pleaded. "There's staircase head. We can bypass a few patrols if we jump down from this ledge."

"Ya hear that kid?" Marcus grinned. More rotting undead blood coated his skin as he continued his assault. "You've got your next move, we've got ours. Now get out of here!"

"Raymond."

Narula gently pulled the paladin towards her. The stern look embedded on her stunning expression told him everything he needed to hear without saying a word. They quickly took off running down the passage without giving their companions a second look.

"Rayne!" The gnome cried out. His daggers whizzed frantically dicing up any and all approaching undead minions that would dare cross their path. "Can we please –"

"Not until I give the signal!"

The paladin's voice echoed to a soft halt as they lost sight of the passageway. They ran down the path and quickly came to a halt atop some wood paneling that replaced the stone flooring. Rayne and Narula joined the mage near the railing.

"Just down here," Cayden pointed. "There is another exit below."

Peeking over the edge sent a horribly disgusting feeling in the pit of the paladin's stomach. It wasn't that he was afraid of heights but rather, a degree of uncertainty. The ground below was damaged, cracked, and nearly broken beyond all repair. Whether or not it could take the weight of his bulky frame and heavy armor was yet to be seen. The last thing Rayne wanted to do was fall through and further separate himself from more of his friends.

"How do you know it's safe down their Cayden?" Rayne asked begrudgingly.

The mage placed his hands on the respective shoulders of the night elf and paladin. With a heartfelt smile, he channeled a bit of silver arcane energy and enveloped them in a shining purple mist.

"We don't," grinned Cayden. "But isn't having faith your job?"

Cayden leapt backwards over the railing and began his slowed descent towards the ground. His mystical red robes trailed a soft orange glow as he traveled.

Sweat began to build at the top of Rayne's brow. Despite his constant use of supernatural forces, arcane magic was still too wild and untrustworthy at times. Of course, he didn't doubt Cayden. He just wasn't sure that he was playing with the right deck of cards on occasion.

The night elf's gentle hand reached out towards the paladin. Rayne fixed his gaze upon her. She smiled gracefully while imbuing her natural warmth into him with just a simple look. With her at his side he would fear no evil be it man, immortal, or otherwise. He carefully took her hand into his while doing his best to keep his smile from turning into a tooth-filled grin. Even through the thick armored gauntlet, the paladin could feel the electric touch of her soft skin pulsing through his own.

"Ready?"

Rayne nodded without wavering.

The paladin took a big gulp of air as they simultaneously jumped over the railing. Gravity vindictively pulled at their falling bodies. Try as it might it could not overcome the powerful spellcasting from the young mage.

Their bodies continued the slow descent. Rayne couldn't pull his eyes away from Narula. Her hand felt too good clasped within his own. Despite the threat of death looming below, he did not want this moment to end. Their feet touched down simultaneously but they remained still for a few moments. He couldn't get over just how stupidly in love he was with this amazing night elf. Even if it were unrequited for now and possibly the foreseeable future, this was his happiness.

"Yo boss!" Cayden called. "You're going to want to see this."

Rayne snapped out of his lovey-dovey trance and slowly released his grip from Narula's. He couldn't be sure at that moment but it felt like her touch continued linger on his despite being the first to break. With a heartfelt smile the paladin turned his attention towards his fiery young companion.

"What's going on –"

His words trailed off into the frozen afternoon air. Tall mounds of snow surrounded the walls of this outdoor chamber. Deadly icicles with finely shaped tips hung from nearly every open edge. Dozens of undead vrykul warriors and seers littered the area. Another fiendish abomination stood firmly at the far southern end of the room. To the west, a large opening revealed raised pathway that lead upwards into an unknown room. It was lined with intricate golden designs and a bright light shined from within the hidden alcove.

"How do you want to do this?"

Rayne drew his hammer. He slowly pulled down his mechanized goggles switching them to the standard threat-assessment setting. With one quick swing he banged on the shield creating a gong-like sound throughout the room. The undead minions quickly turned their gaze upon them. Red flashing lights flooded his vision. They began their charge on his position with deadly haste.

There was no time to waste. Lena and her brave soldiers were fighting under his direct orders. Marcus and Weasel were battling an unknown enemy. Based upon the majestic look of the adjacent path, the final room was just within reach. Rayne steeled his resolve and tone. It was now or never.

"We take them all at once."

* * *

 _Legerdemain Lounge_

 _Dalaran_

Lorelei sat at the table gently flicking her cup of honeymint tea. She continued her search for more information but unfortunately came up short at nearly every turn. Rayne was apparently a very popular guy around these parts and yet, no one knew much of anything that she didn't already know or learn within the past couple of days.

What was driving her nuts wasn't the lack of information but rather, why she was so desperately seeking it or him for that matter. Something was amiss about the whole situation. This wasn't like anything she learned while living in Silvermoon or during her training. Sure he saved her life which lead to an otherwise awkward but thankfully not deadly introduction. They spent a day riding, talking, and laughing together and then he was out of the picture just as quickly as he came in. It should have ended right then and there just as her brother commanded. No matter how hard her mind tried, her heart just wouldn't let it go.

Every time she thought of him her emotions ran rampant. Each time she envisioned his face a great warmth swelled inside her. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced and like all good things, her body craved more of it. Not having it was one of the worst feelings she had come to known. Even when times were tough and they were fighting for every meal seemed to pale in comparison to this. The young elf had no clue as to why this was but desperately sought the answer.

"Something troubling you dear," the barmaid asked. "You've been staring at that cup for almost ten minutes without taking even a little sip."

Lorelei shook her head. It was instinctive since she wasn't used to talking to anyone other than her brother and even he would typically shut himself out of any type of conversation that didn't evolve the progression of their general well-being.

"I know that look," the auburn haired woman smirked. She pulled up a chair and took a seat across from the young elf. "Don't tell me… Boy trouble, right?"

Her eyes widened. Lorelei looked at the smiling barmaid and without saying a word told her everything she needed to know.

"I knew it," she laughed. "I can always tell. The name's Sandra by the way."

"Lorelei," the young elf replied. "Lorelei Starstrider."

"Nice to meet you Lorelei," smiled the barmaid which quickly turned into a delving grin. "Now then, tell me all about him."

Warmth began to soak in the young elf's cheeks. Without fail even the very thought of the paladin continued to toil at her emotions. She had no idea how to describe someone that made her feel so oddly special and happy. At the very least, she could certainly try.

"He's great: funny, caring, strong."

The words came out so naturally. She couldn't stop herself.

"He makes you feel like you're the only person in the world. And the only thing that matters."

"Handsome too I bet."

Lorelei shyly nodded. Even for a non-elf he has some remarkably likeable features about him. She had never thought of anyone in that sort of way before let alone an enemy of their faction.

"So what seems to be the trouble then?" The barmaid bluntly asked. "Did he forget your birthday? Anniversary? Or has he been fooling around on you?"

"No," she boldly defended. "It's nothing like that."

Given the current evidence it _was_ something like that but Lorelei did not open up to find those answers. She was hunting for something different.

"Oh, I get it," Sandra widely grinned. "It's an unrequited romance, isn't it?"

"It's what?!"

Lorelei's heart convulsed. Each thump threatened to explode out of her chest. She had never heard those words spoken so confidently before. Her body started to tingle in places mirrors could never reach.

"I'm sorry," replied the barmaid. She hoped to ease the fluster young elf's nerves a bit. "But I think I know what's going on. It's not about the relationship, it's about the attention isn't it?"

The young elf looked around praying no one else was spying upon them. When she was satisfied, Lorelei sheepishly nodded.

She hit the nail right on the head and Sandra was far from finished.

"You're just hoping he'd look your way a bit, right?"

The young elf nodded again.

"And, I don't know why…" She began.

The softness of her tone conveyed the most pure breath of sincerity the likes of which this barmaid hadn't seen in quite some time.

"It's like any time I even think of him my heart just won't stop beating. When I hear someone else speaking his name it feels like it's being torn out. And, when I remember his face, it's all I want to look at."

The young elf took a deep breath.

"I don't know what's happening to me. I've never felt this way before. And the part that scares me the most is, I don't know if I want it to stop."

Sandra followed that beautiful speech with a roaring bought of laughter. Suddenly the air grew colder atop this floating city. Lorelei could feel a tickle of anger clawing at her throat just begging for release.

"Oh to be young again," the barmaid chuckled.

"I'm sorry," groaned the young elf. She was no longer feeling welcomed in this establishment as was preparing to leave in a huff.

"No," she finished wiping away a few tears from the corners of her eyes. "I'm the one that should be apologizing. I didn't mean to upset you it's just that it's been a while since I've experience someone so innocent before. Please," Sandra begged. "Don't go. I definitely think I can help you with your little problem."

Lorelei slowly returned to her calm demeanor but promised never to leave herself that vulnerable to this one ever again.

"Now then," smiled the barmaid. "Let me start by asking you just a couple of questions."

The young elf took a deep breath and nodded in approval.

"Okay."

"First, do you ever catch yourself thinking about what he's doing at any odd time during the day?"

Lorelei nodded.

"Second, do you ever wonder if he's thinking about you? And does that thought make you very happy."

Lorelei nodded once more with added vigor.

"And third, do you wish you were sitting here talking to him instead of me?"

Lorelei averted her eyes for a moment. She took a short breath and gently nodded.

"Well then," Sandra boldly finished. "The diagnosis is complete."

"What," the young elf began. "What is it?"

"It's simple sweetheart," she stated with a smile. "You're just in love."

The warmth in Lorelei' cheeks quickly turned into a blazing inferno. Her entire face boiled with a red hot fervor. She had only heard about such things in passing or stories told to children. Never did she once believe her life would mimic fiction in any way, shape or form. Her mind continued to race with the influx of newly acquired thoughts. She couldn't even begin to fathom what to say next.

"I don't know," the young elf started while biting her lower lip. This was much harder than she ever anticipated. "What should I do?"

The barmaid's couldn't resist answering her with a smile.

"That leaves me with my final question. Do you want to be with him? Not just today. Not just tomorrow. But every day here and thereafter?"

Suddenly the blunt warnings of her brother began filling the young elf's mind. He had been both clear and strict with his declaration. This kind of relationship would not work out between them. For the betterment of their people and their standing, she had to concede.

Lorelei nodded. She did it without thinking or hesitation.

"Then go after him," Sandra smiled.

Damn her people and damn her brother's closed minded thinking. If the stories she's heard as a child were true than love can transcend all boundaries. Every moment without him in her life was like a knife slowly entering her chest. It continued to dig deeper and deeper tearing her body into new realms of agony but not allowing her to succumb to the sweet release of death. That was not what she wanted at all. Her brother fought for years to give her a good life. What was the point of living if she wasn't even allowed to truly live?

"Thank you," Lorelei responded kindly. "I will."

* * *

 _Eagle's Eye_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

Vrykul blood caked on the chilling ground after another vile strike from the warrior's mace. The raging hot burning sensation of blood ripping through his veins reminded him of times both better and worse. Nothing beat the blissful smell of combat. It was one of the few moments where he felt truly alive.

"Stay down," Marcus taunted. He swung his mace high above his head and after two quick revolutions pointed at the nearest undead minion. "Who's next?!"

"Hey Marcus," called the gnome.

His daggers clipped the tendons of his opponent's knees and drove the undead warrior flat on his face. That makes four down by his hand and another six each to clear out this mess.

"What is it ratchet-face?" The warrior replied while driving his mace into the flapping jaw of the vrykul minion.

"Just how the hell are we supposed to see any signal from here?"

Weasel flipped over the oncoming slash and dug his daggers into the rotting shoulders of the undead creature. He locked his grip around each handle while planting both feet into its spine.

"I mean, we can hardly see anything from out here. They could be anywhere. Maybe we should just –"

"Not!" Marcus cried as his mace cracked against the decaying bones of another vrykul.

"Until!" He shouted once more after smashing a second skull with his returning swing.

"We!" His lungs roared while slamming the mallet into a grey hide.

"Get!" The warrior yelled with his mace ripping the softened flesh of the undead from its hideous carcass.

"The signal!" He finished driving down the weapon onto the fallen vrykul laying at his feet.

"Geez," the gnome sighed. He pushed himself off the undead creature and kicked it towards the warrior. Marcus caught the bold opportunity presented before him and winded the might mace backwards. He hurled it forward in a two-hundred and seventy degree arc cleaving the vrykul's head clean off and smashed it hundreds of feet away.

"A simple no would have suf –"

Weasel's words stopped as soon as he caught eyes of the blue vrykul and his mighty proto-drake coming back into view. The large monster and his pet looked more upset than when initially encountered. This was expected granted the pair had laid to waste over half of his buddies.

"Go now! Leave nothing but ash in your wake!"

"Uh oh."

"Move!" The warrior ordered.

They simultaneously dove towards the outer edge of the hallway. A blast of frost breath poured from the dragon's violent maw and began coating the ground they once stood in. Unlucky vrykul that stood in its path became singed instantaneously. Their rotting flesh was painted blue before slowly melting off through their muscles and bones leaving nothing but a heap of frozen ashes.

The biting frost of the attack clawed at the plate greaves of the warrior. It was more than enough of a warning. Any second later and he'd be mingling in the same pile of death as his enemies.

"Thanks for the assist you big dope!" Weasel teased.

The vrykul had perhaps unwillingly turned this encounter in their favor by eliminating the rest of the undead horde within these halls. As a token of his appreciation, he gave the flying pair a favored gesture implicating both his lack of respect and desire to continue this confrontation.

"What the hell are we going to do?!" The gnome snapped. He kept his tone low but fierce.

"Revoke your taunting license for starters," the warrior replied while picking himself up. He dusted off the traces of snow that had pressed against his skin upon landing.

"Will you be serious for a second?!" The gnome barked. "I'm taking about that ugly dragon and the frozen oldie riding it up there."

The warrior sighed.

"What about him?"

"Are you serious?! Look at him. He's way the hell up there and we're way the hell down here. I don't know if you've suddenly decided to dip in the arcane arts while my back was turned or maybe you picked up a bow from one of the many archers we've encountered in this fortress from hell but how in Gnomeregan's name do you expect us to fight that when we can't even reach him?!"

Though he was a bit out of line with his tone, Weasel was right. Rayne had taken the only two people capable of properly striking the target at a distance. Unless that vrykul was ready to dance on their level, this was going to be one hell of a challenge.

"Wait," Marcus started.

A smile slowly spread across his lips. His eyes locked onto a group of suspiciously designed turrets at the northern end of the hallway. They were shaped in the crude image of a dragon's head. The racks beside them were empty but lying beside the mound of undead bodies was just what they needed.

The warrior rolled a fallen spear atop his foot and kicked it up into his hands. A sinister smirk formed on his lips as he pointed the black iron weapon towards the floating target.

"Don't worry. I've got a plan."

* * *

 _Ruined Court_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

Thunder clashed above. Bolts of channeled lightning ripped from the skies and through the bodies of the undead. Their chilling howls fell silent as their second chance at life had been forcibly taken from them.

"Keep it up Narula!" Ordered Rayne. With a wide swing of his shield he batted off a pair of attackers and drove them into the storm above. More whips of pure energy sliced through them splitting the creatures in half and cauterizing their tainted flesh.

The night elf continued to channel the violent storm hanging above the open sky. Volleys of fireballs shot out of the mage's hand slamming into the target's that ventured outside of the summoned tempest while the paladin took to the front lines and protected them both from any stray physical harm.

Two more vrykul went down. Rayne lowered his shield and caught the gaze of an undead sear channeling a dark spell between his fingers. He was the only one that remained from the lot they had just vanquished and he wasn't going down without a fight. The paladin braced himself for the inevitable impact and raised his shield.

Cayden's eyes snapped and went black. His hands channeled a similar ball of dark energy. From within his palm he caught the growing orb of mystical power and crushed it. The spell forming within the vrykul's hands had instantly vanished. There was no way a mere minion of the undead could overcome a classic silence spell from a trained magi.

This gave the paladin the edge he needed. Rayne charged the seer dragging his mace behind. He swung the hammer up and over his head pulling with it a glowing pillar of light. It slammed atop the vrykul's skull and exploded in a hot mess of golden energy. The die had been cast and this final creature had been judged. He will bring no more harm to anyone in this realm. The light saw to that personally.

"Let's move," Rayne ordered while charging up the raised pathway.

Narula and Cayden followed immediately. They ran together through the large opening. It lifted them up at least two stories higher than the previous courtyard and opened to a wide room. Four boats sat in perfect symmetry between a red carpet that led down the center. They depicted the crude image of a dragon skull at the bow with lit lanterns hanging nestled in their jaws. Golden tribal designs were sketched along columns and walls. Giant red drapes that have tasted battle hung from the room.

The red carpet ended at the base of a set of stairs. A spiked chain hung from the end of two wooden railings holding an iron sigil of a buckler with two axes protruding from each side. Giant lanterns swung gently from similarly carved dragons high above the railings. Twelve tiny flames were lit atop four pillar candlesticks surrounding a finely carved wooden throne. Sitting lazily along the seat was a giant vrykul. His body appeared to be carved out of pure muscle. Great plates of spiked armor were wrapped tightly along his body. His belt depicted the image of a raging bull with glowing orifices growing dim and bright with every breath he took. The most fearsome garb adorned on the vrykul was his gargantuan helm. Horns jutted out of each side wider than his shoulders. Its sharp tips were wide enough to impale and rip asunder any hapless mortal that dared to stand in their path.

"Intruders…" The giant wheezed. Every breath he took appeared to be labored and slow.

The paladin allowed himself the pleasure of one final calming and deep breath. He knew now there would be no turning back from here.

"According to the historical records, the only intruder in this place is you King Ymiron."

A loud cough exited the king's lungs. The air burned like fire as he scoffed.

"Templar."

Rayne was impressed he actually knew his name. It appears the Scourge had a very proficient intelligence network. That would be useful information in the future. The paladin slowly approached taking careful strides along the red carpet. From within his front pouch he pulled a small white stick marked with a red cross. He flicked his wrist upwards and loaded the rocket into the fitted chamber.

"Should I be honored that you know my name before our formal introduction?" He asked masking the snickering underneath the snapping of the engineering device. "For a tyrant nestled safely within the confines of his castle, you have an impressive knowledge of the outside world."

"Introductions?" The King's tone grew fiercer. His somber nature quickly subsided as heaps of rage fueled his being. "I command an army, sleep in a castle, rule over these lands and yet the Alliance sends dogs… No, mere clowns to challenge my reign."

"Clowns?" The paladin replied raising an eyebrow.

For weeks he had been cultivating a strategy. It took everything in his being to live up to the ridicule and constant torment from his enemies and peers alike. The fact that word had spread to this king himself meant all of that humiliation would finally pay off.

"Forgive me King Ymiron," Rayne began. "Where are my manners? I should have properly introduced you to my companions, or clowns, as you call them."

Rayne lifted his arm up high and snapped his wrist. The rocket fired from its launcher and crashed through the roof of the keep leaving behind only but a tiny hole. It exploded in a burst of red light. The signal had finally been given.


	16. Chapter 15

_Wyrmskull Village_

 _Howling Fjord_

Steel brutally clashed. Soldiers raised their shields and blocked the oncoming onslaught of the dragonflayers' attacks. The sheer strength of a vrykul was nearly overwhelming for each soldier to handle alone. It only took a couple of well-placed strikes before the soldiers were sent reeling backwards.

The Templar army had just pushed far enough over the bridge to enter Wyrmskull but their forces were kept at bay by the sheer physical might of the Dragonflayer clan. Their advances were halted by the oncoming threat of enslaved proto-drakes that were unleashed upon them at varying intervals. If it weren't for the mass of trees surrounding this village, the soldiers would have been extraordinarily vulnerable to their flaming breath weapons.

"Com'on you dogs!" Lena howled. Her sword cut against the unarmored chest of the vrykul warrior. The blade had just barely grazed his hardened flesh but enough to force open a line of blood that slowly began to pour out of his pectorals. It may not have taken him down but he won't soon forget that strike.

"Sir!"

The Captain turned towards the soldier calling out to her. She deflected an oncoming spear on instinct and continued to parry while barking back at him.

"What is it?!"

"Squad D is being pushed back. We need time to –"

"Swap them out for Squad H. Move Squads A through C to the rear flank. Push Squads E through G forward."

"Sir!" He saluted while retreating backwards.

Her orders were stern and flawless even in the heat of combat. Lena hadn't allowed one man to fall on this day and she wasn't about to send more to their needless deaths. The thought alone triggered her already volatile tempter into overdrive. She unleashed a horrifying kick into the vrykul's crotch. His resulting wheeze proved that despite their size, all men have the same vital weakness. The Captain finished him off with a steady backhand. The hardened plate gauntlets drilled into his skin and drew an arc of blood high into the air.

An explosion in the distance called out to her. The Captain's eyes darted towards the colossal keep. A trail of smoke led to the flash of a brilliant red flare. It was unlike the typical signals used by most military commands. This one was in the vague shape of a cross and mimicked the tabard worn by all of the men and women currently on the battlefield.

A sinister grin fell over Lena's expression. It was about damn time. Her oldest friend always had a pension for theatrics be it small or grand. Either way, she was happy to know he was doing alright in there as well.

"That's the signal boys!" The Captain shouted. "Let's turn it up!"

The soldiers replied with a massive grunt.

* * *

 _Eagle's Eye_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

The spear ripped from the canon with an incredible velocity. It traveled through the icy blue sky and whizzed just inches past the flying proto-drake.

"Another miss," groaned the gnome.

Marcus spit angrily while loading in another projectile.

"It's hard enough to aim these things let alone trying to hit a moving target," he retaliated. "I don't see you –"

The warrior was silenced as the dragon returned to a familiar position. It reared its head back as its mouth filled with a gout of icy flame.

"Another breath attack!" Weasel's eyes nearly went crooked.

"To the left!"

The foul mist of the dragon's breath coated the western side of the pathway. Ice cracked fervently in its wake continually melting the hardened pathway one thin layer at a time. The horrifying singe of cold continued to call out to them. Marcus was not nearly as lucky as the last time. His greaves burned at his feet. The sweltering agony scraping away at his nerves was not nearly as bad as seeing another turret destroyed before their eyes.

"Damn it," the warrior sighed. He pounded his fists on the ground one at a time and slowly dragged himself up.

"There's only one more turret left," Weasel gulped. "What in the hell are we going to do?!"

Marcus shook his head.

"I don't know."

There was plenty of ammunition left but without something to load them in they were about as useful as a broken jaw in a pie eating contest. Their efforts would be wasted if something did not turn in their favor soon. Marcus had always trusted Rayne's judgment. The paladin hadn't steered him wrong yet but with death looming closer and closer, it was hard to just grit your teeth and stare back at it knowing there wasn't anything they could do to stop it.

"How long can we keep this –"

A flash of red light high above cascaded over them. Marcus and Weasel shielded their eyes from the initial bright blast. The flare shined intensely and even caught the attention of the drake and its rider.

The warrior peered through his fingers and felt a jolt of energy instantly revitalize his body and mind. Hundreds upon thousands of tiny little sparks stared back at him from on high in the crude image of the Templar crest.

 _That son of a…_

Marcus' teeth shined through his wide gin. His head turned towards the eager gnome who had apparently translated the message as well.

"Alright!" The warrior unremittingly shouted letting the word carry onwards and outwards.

His voice boomed over the empty landscape. The walls frantically vibrated against the strength of his lungs. Even the drake was forced to flap a few more times to remain steady. He looked over at his short companion and winked.

"Let's do this."

* * *

 _Ymiron's Seat_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

The tiny hole in his roof drew an unexpected amount of anger from the tired king. Though it was small, the audacity of these intruding mongrels invading his keep was annoying above all else. Humans were so small, so tiny. Their bones would snap so easily between his fingers like toothpicks. This defiance would not go unpunished.

"I have put too much faith in my subordinates," declared Ymiron.

He reached from behind his seat on procured a long, dual bladed sword. The bronze steel matched his armor in both color and ferocity. He dragged the weapon across the ground allowing the hideous scraping sound to fuel his next statement.

"Sometimes a king needs to get his hands dirty. I'll make you pay for insulting my throne room you clown."

The defiant blonde man shook his head.

"I assure you King Ymiron that I, nor my companions are not here in any manner of jest."

"You are clowns!"

Adrenaline slowly began surging through his ancient veins. He had almost forgotten the sweet taste of this exhilaration.

"Right now my men are decimating your puny army just outside my gates. We will hang their heads from posts and feed their remains to the worgs."

"Again with that word," sighed the human. "I'm afraid you are mistaken. But, then again, I cannot fault you for that. You see, the deception surrounding your acquired intelligence was my doing. I had spent months scouting, researching, and selecting the finest heroes Azeroth had to offer. They are the ones responsible for sacking your keep. They are the ones who decimated your soldiers. And they are the ones who are going to watch me bring you to justice."

The king scoffed. It was slightly amusing to see this little wretch writhe in his own pool of overconfidence.

"Their skulls will make fine feeding bowls for my dogs. I will engrave their names on each one as a reminder of this insolence."

"Then allow me to introduce them to you," the human mocked. "I want to make sure they are spelled properly after all. One of the finest warriors you will ever have the pleasure of meeting is just outside these walls. I'm sure the vrykul would both love and respect his story. He first picked up an axe at the young age of ten and fled his home of Gilneas to help Stormwind fight off the orcish invasion. Since then, he's been involved in every major war and conflict throughout our world's history. From battling atop the Burning Steppes as the Alliance rallied to defeat the orcs and end the second war to pushing back the Burning Legion in our most recent expedition to the Outlands. There isn't a battle on this planet he hasn't been a part of and by history's count, he hasn't lost one yet."

The blonde man steadied his gaze and exhaled proudly.

"His name is Marcus Bloodblade."

A muffled groan exited Ymiron's breath. It was a fine story but even short people can tell tall tales.

"The second name you will be unfamiliar with but that was by design. He's a former agent for SI:7 specializing in infiltration and assassinations. Toppling regimes and stopping wars are mere footnotes in his vastly extensive resume. His commanding officer said there has been no finer killer to walk these lands since the invention of poison and yet you'll never see his name in any documents or historical texts. He is, by all intents and purposes, a shadow. He's always lurking right behind you and you'll never see him coming. The codename he was affectionately given was Weasel since anyone that crossed his path met a speedy death but his real name is Glimwack Manifico. Only five beings on this planet were privileged with this information. Any time it's accidentally gone passed that was quickly remedied."

Muscles tensed within the king's grip. He tightened his fingers around the large blade's hilt. Those two were probably already being consumed by his vast lot of vrykul soldiers. This could be a clever ruse to buy some time but Ymiron did promise to hear their names. At least he'd have a funny story to tell when refilling those bowls.

"To my left is our youngest member. He is a recently graduated mage residing in Dalaran. Though, I should probably be more specific. The term recent may be confusing. He is currently only eighteen years of age but graduated as a full-fledged magus when he was only fifteen. He spent the last three years training under the Archmage Rhonin as his personal apprentice. Since then he's assisted in not only the training of new mages but also with the creation of a vast assortment of spells. He is regarded as one of the finest minds to ever enter the halls of the Kirin Tor and was even being groomed for membership amongst their elite Council of Six. Unfortunately, his thirst for knowledge and wild temper led him away from that path. He came to me seeking an unwritten future where he could be free to do as he pleased and not spend his days in a halls surrounded by books and the elderly."

The human paused and gave the red-robed companion a simple pat on the back.

"His name is Cayden Melton."

The walking bundle of flame was better suited for the kindling of the Great Forge. Ymiron would see to it that his flames would be used by the smiths to create a fine pick for his teeth.

"And finally," the blonde one smiled. "Standing to my right is perhaps the most unique, interesting, and _powerful_ member of my organization. According to our known records, she was the first night elf to ever venture from Kalimdor to the Eastern Kingdoms, but don't let that piece of underwhelming trivia define her. She is known for many firsts among her people. She was among the first females to take up the calling as a druid. She was the first to master the powers of nature amongst her peers. And, she was the first and only female member to be honored with the title of Archdruid and granted membership into the ranks of the Cenarian Circle. However, she declined that once in a lifetime opportunity to join me. Words cannot express how blessed I am to have her on my side."

The human paused for a breath. His aura of pride and admiration had shifted as he gazed back at the king with a heaping does of scorn.

"Her name is Narula Dawngrove."

"That's a lot of talk for such puny beings," Ymiron mocked. "Why should I even believe these lies?"

"You shouldn't," the blonde one smiled once more. "But that of course is exactly what I wanted. Despite their numerous skills, accolades, and accomplishments I selfishly asked them to withhold their talents and participate in several ruses throughout our expedition to Northrend. If it had been known I had such a fine group of champions in my midst, it would only prove disadvantageous to what I was trying to achieve. Instead, I did the opposite. I lowered everyone's expectations so they would think twice about us taking on a simple quest or even an assassination mission such as this one. When no one is expecting anything from you, people tend to lower their guard. You can even slip right past a heavily guarded keep such as this one as if you were mere flies on the wall."

Fury grew within the King's heart. The words of the darkfallen had come back to haunt him in such humiliating fashion. If this tiny being had spouted any truths today he would be sure to have Keleseth's head mounted next to theirs.

"You would sacrifice your army and the lives of hundreds just to sneak a trifling group into my castle? The only thing you've proven today is your incompetence."

"Sacrifice?

The human laughed which only drew more rage from the King.

"That is not entirely accurate. The soldiers outside don't belong to any army. My father's house is under the direct protection of Stormwind through a sworn agreement by the King himself. It is not an army you face, they are simply my bodyguards. My father can be a bit overprotective. I was told at a very young age that I would go on to do many great things. He simply wanted to ensure my safety."

The air grew thick with his growing wrath. Ymiron wanted nothing more than to end this trite conversation with his blade skewering the insolent wretch on the ends of both blades.

"Templar," the king spat.

"My apologies _your majesty_ ," the blonde man interrupted. "Perhaps you have been previously acquainted with me but still, I must introduce myself."

Words trailed off as a brilliant golden light swelled within the human's eyes. A burst of sunlight exploded behind him. The king shielded his vision behind his beefy arms but could still feel its rays penetrating his flesh. Bright beams shined upon opposing sides of the wall and filled these dark halls with their painful warmth.

The light dimmed slightly. Ymiron lowered his hands. The painful white glow still itched at his skin. Through the horribly magnificent shine a strong silhouette took shape. The tiny human stood in the exact same stance he was moments prior but something had drastically changed. Golden wings spanned across his back nearly ten feet in length. They sparkled with the same hideously burning light that had grazed the King's skin earlier. His pupils had completely vanished. Only white spheres sat in their place. There was a gross trickle of light that flickered within the new appendages.

"My name is Raymond Nigel Templar."

His voice had changed. The words echoed within Ymiron's soul. For the first time in ages he could actually sense his blood quaking. Whether it was from pain or fear was yet to be seen but too mortifying to admit.

"And I'm…."

The human lifted his right hand. Fingers spread as wide as each muscle allowed. A ball of light formed and began to grow within his palm that pointed straight at the king.

"Just a simple paladin."

* * *

 _Eagle's Eye_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

"Ready?!" The warrior cried.

"Hit it!"

Another spear exploded from the turret. Weasel kicked off the launcher and planted both of his feet onto the flying projectile. They flew high into the air. The spear was seemingly unaffected by the weight of its new passenger. Wind furiously blew against his body as he raced towards the flying blue bullseye in the sky.

Weasel leapt off his crude transport seconds before impact. He quickly drew both daggers from their sheaths and hurled himself towards heavily armored skull of the frost vrykul. The proto-drake hideously wailed as the spear pierced through its chest. Its rider reacted similarly as two tiny blades drilled into his glowing blue eyes.

"You motherless knaves!" Roared the vrykul.

His meager taunts came out more panicky than intimidating.

"What was that?!" The gnome teased.

He maneuvered around pressing his chest against the back of the helm and wrapping his tiny legs around the vrykul's throat while keeping a tight grip on each dagger.

"I can't hear you over your constant wails of agony."

The vrykul was in a challenging position. His nerves begged for attention as each blade drew closer and closer to his brain but he could release the reins of the proto-drake and potentially fall to another painful demise. There was only one compromise he could make in this situation. With one hand locked on the dragon's bindings, the vrykul swatted at the gnome.

"Hey there," Weasel jested. He lunged his body from side to side dragging his opponent's head with him and swaying from each potential attack. "Buy a drink first before you get all handsy."

A frustratingly horrific cry tore through the vrykul's throat.

"Alright, I get it." Weasel couldn't hold back his grin. "You throttle, I'll steer."

Gruesome shrieks continued to fill the air surrounding the keep. The proto-drake violently thrashed about as it was receiving mixed signals from the rider. With every attempt he made to free himself from the attached gnome drove him one step closer to death.

Weasel had no issues keeping himself away from the vrykul's cold grip. Every little twist of his knives sent jolts of torment rending through the giant's nerves. He could feel the vrykul's heartbeat increasing rapidly. Even the light vibrations of his skin told the gnome just how effective every little movement proved to be.

"Hey Marcus!" Called Weasel. "There's room up here for one more."

"Working on it."

Marcus desperately began tying a long rope to the end of the loaded spear. Given the size of the pile it was between forty and fifty feet in length. Taking into consideration the velocity of the launcher versus the length of the rope gave the warrior a solid window of a few seconds to latch on for an intense ride.

"Are you sure that can hold your weight?!" The gnome yelled over the pleas of the rearing dragon.

"I've got this," the warrior replied while aiming the launcher. "I heard about a guy doing something similar over at Nifflevar. The mechanism's a bit different but the theory's sound. Get ready."

"You got it!"

Marcus stepped over the ledge. The serene view of Howling Fjord from this angle was something only few would ever experience. Although the drop below would be one he hoped no one ever would. The warrior held the heavy mace in his left hand while keeping his right free to catch the speedy rope. He aimed the weapon at the trigger a couple of times to ensure he could strike it and properly fire the turret without compromising the aim or stability.

"Ready?!" Shouted the warrior.

"All aboard!" Replied the gnome.

The mace smashed into the trigger. Another explosive burst exited the turret. Marcus was caught off guard by the initial puff of smoke. Thankfully it didn't affect his instincts. The warrior latched onto the expedited rope. Its thick fibers burned within his grip as he took to the air.

"Dive! Dive! Dive!" Weasel ordered.

He pressed the daggers downward and after a quick jolt forward the drake followed the subsequent second-hand command.

Gusts of freezing wind blew through the exposed skin of the warrior. Marcus cruised over the open landscape like a bird freed from its cage. The spear continued to dip with each passing moment. It raced to meet the drake head on.

"Uh oh," the rogue maniacally grinned. "I miscalculated."

The vrykul screamed in terror as the spear tore through his midsection. The armor waned against the immense force. His intestines pushed through the other side sending trickling amounts of blood, bone and sinew gracefully falling into lush grass below. The projectile remained impaled in his body taking up the space that was forcibly emptied.

"Perfect shot!" The warrior smiled.

He swung from side to side several feel below the flailing dragon. The rope held its end of the bargain but with the added weight the proto-drake was not feeling as capable as it was moments ago. Whether it was the continuous blood loss from the first attack or the big breakfast the warrior partook in this morning was still in speculation.

"Where to now?" Weasel calmly asked.

To new adventurers, this would be the ride of their lives. To these seasoned heroes, it was just another day on the job.

Marcus pointed forward towards the heart of the massive structure.

"Let's gain some speed," the warrior smiled. "I think it's about time we dropped in and said hello."

* * *

 _Ymiron's Seat_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

The pure warmth of the paladin's light continued to bathe over him. A soft trickle of words fell from his lips. This was the mantra he recited before every dealing with the undead. It wasn't required by every paladin but it aided in soothing his nerves for what he was about to do. He continued to channel the ambient energy into his palm in preparation for the massive spell.

"King Ymiron," Rayne spoke. His words still echoed as if spoken by hundreds. "By order of Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind and leader of the Alliance; for the crimes of theft, tyranny, and genocide I hear by sentence you to death. If you submit willingly, I will carry out your sentence quickly and immediately."

That appeared to send Ymiron's rage to heights not previously seen. Threat or promise, the king was not pleased with the offer presented.

"You invade my home and then dare to challenge me?" The king roared. "I will tear the hearts from your chests and offer them as gifts to the death god! Rualg nja gaborr!"

Ymiron charged forward with the massive sword dragging over his mighty shoulders. Every monumental step cracked the wooden boards beneath his hefty boots. He had squandered the humble proposal sparing him of any ensuing humiliation. The undead were not like humans. There was no fear of death since they had already went through that experience. However, this was not going to be an execution. This was an exorcism.

A glorious beam of light shot out of the paladin's gauntlet. It pierced the king's flesh and sent uproarious cries into the throne room. Rayne's golden wings blew back against the devastating force exploding from his hand. It continued to channel the massive burst into a thick radiant column before slowly dissipating into a thin trickling ray that disappeared as quickly as it came.

The king's sword fell to the ground. His thick muscular arm still gripped at its hilt. Ymiron dropped to his knees wailing while madly clutching the shoulder with his only reaming attached arm. The light had torn it clean off and instantly cauterized the wound. He grunted wildly trying to regain his composure on top of dealing with the loss of a major appendage.

"You," Ymiron cursed. "Clowns…"

"You have forsaken your only opportunity for leniency," Rayne's voice continued to echo as light shined brightly upon the boom of every syllable. "There is no –"

"CLOWNS!"

Ymiron's vigorous shout shook the halls of his beloved throne room as he rose to his feet. He arched his back and fiercely cried out his frustrations into the dank keep air.

An explosion tore through the roof. A blue comet came crashing down trailing thick clouds of dust and debris. The entire pinnacle quaked trying desperately to catch the brunt of their velocity while still keeping the walls from toppling over. The king was in for a rude awakening. His astounding battle cry did not cause this castle to fall. Ymiron's eyes opened as the hellish object landed in the southern corner of his throne room.

Four bodies quickly took shape after the dust had settled. A glorious blue drake laid motionless in a heaping pile of blood with a fist sized hole pounded clean through its chest. Atop of him in a similar looking fashion was a large blue vrykul warrior with a pronounced helm nearly as fine as the king's and a spear impaled through his chest. Two more tiny beings jumped away from the landing sight and frolicked towards the defiant group. Marcus and Weasel took their appropriate places amongst their friends and gloriously shining leader.

"As I've said before," the paladin began. "We are no clowns."

Light cascaded over them. The familiar burning sensation wrapped around the king's brawny frame. Their shadows grew tenfold behind the magnificent golden rays depicting their silhouetted visages as more than just mere men.

"We are the Templar Knights."


	17. Chapter 16

_Furnace of Hate_

 _Utgarde Keep_

"Com'on dogs!" Lena cried.

Thick sprays of blood stained her face and armor. Some of it caked while others still fresh and warm to the touch. She pointed her swift silver blade forward and blitzed up the thick stone steps. The company of soldiers replied with a massive grunt and charged quickly behind their commanding officer.

A great hall opened up to reveal several large weapon racks resting on each side. They held newly forged blades, axes, and spears that hung viciously waiting to tear into some new flesh. The hall led to wide circular room. The stone walls supported by large iron struts raised up and formed an open dome. In the center, giant demonic faces made of black steel stared back at them as massive walls of flame erupted from their gaping mouths.

Dozens of vrykul's stood in the alcoves immediately became alerted to the disturbance. They quickly ran to the racks and procured all of the tools necessary to defend against the intruders. Their collective demeanor quickly changed upon realizing the sheer mass of soldiers actively invading their home.

In seconds the wide halls were filled with hundreds of soldiers proudly wearing the bright white and red banner of the Templar house. Lena aimed her blade down the center of the hallway. A malicious grin filled her expression.

"Greetings gentlemen," she teased. "I'm afraid your house-sitting days are over. By order of the Templar Knights, we're here to sack this keep."

* * *

 _Ymiron's Seat_

 _Utgarde Pinnacle_

The odds had surely turned against this former proud king. Despite facing defeat and death at his door he continued to remain defiant to logic and reasoning. He still contained all of the fierce rage previously demonstrated but his strength was greatly reduced. Without a sword or a proper arm to wield it, there wasn't much this usurper could do to stand against them.

Ymiron delivered a blood curdling shriek. A wave of darkness exploded from his throat and rushed towards the paladin. He quickly darted towards one of the boats as resonating sound of black energy clashed against the searing shield of light surrounding the Knights. The king did not rely on strength alone to vanquish his foes. He was growing desperate and using his powers of undeath to summon strength from a supernatural source.

"Haldor of the Rocky Cliffs, grant me your –"

"Now Cayden!"

The mage's fingers snapped and unleashed four vivid columns of flames. Wood cracked in defiance from the blazing eruption and began dissolving into black ashes. Each boat erupted in a sea of red haze as the extensive arcane energy completely surrounded the ancient vessels.

Ymiron landed flat on his backside. The magnitude of the blast was too immense even for his robust frame. The sight of his ancestor's spirits being engulfed in a raging tornado of fire sent horrifying chills throughout his large spine. Smoke bellowed from each. Within seconds the great ships housing some of the most precious spirits in vrykul history had been eradicated.

"Haldor. Bjorn. Tor. Ranulf."

They were gone. Cayden's spell had worked beautifully. He had sensed a massive presence of ominous strength. Rayne had felt it too and kept Ymiron talking while the mage worked to find the source. If they could cut off the king from a potential trump card, victory would be that much easier.

Blood filled the frantic vision of the fallen king. He slammed his fist into the ground and launched towards the paladin in a furious rage. The audacious momentum viscerally charging was halted by the incredible booming of steel. Marcus had leapt in and winded his mace back. With a devastating howl he swung and connected brilliantly against Ymiron's exposed midsection. The boar shaped waist guard was crushed into a wrinkling pile of scrap barely clinging to the leather strap binding it altogether.

The king coughed rebelliously. Air exploded from his lungs and scarred the gentle tissues of his throat. He was nowhere near his intended target yet lacked the strength to continue. In one foul swing the warrior had stopped the mightiest of all the vrykul dead in his tracks,

More cries exited Ymiron's breath. Thin arcs of blood ripped from the back of his legs. Weasel had stealthily placed himself behind the king and waited for the most opportune moment to strike. His daggers, albeit small, were exceptionally sharp. The gnome was well versed in the anatomy of most humanoids regardless of race. All it took was a couple of quick swipes against the fragile tendons hiding behind the king's hardened knees to take his legs completely out of the game.

Dust splashed away as Ymiron crashed on his knees. With only one good hand to support him, he tried desperately to push himself back up with only a single arm supporting his bulky and battered frame. The resounding pain from the initial blow remained in nearly all of its audacious capacity. What made matters worse was now he couldn't even feel anything below his knees. It was as if they had been completely cut off but he could still see them staring back at him; thick, muscular and dripping with blood.

The king desperately pushed for more air. He coughed and wheeze as the vital substance poured back into him. His eyes opened while regaining some semblance of composure over the dire situation before him. The massive black shadow sitting under his body slowly began to shrink. Another disgusting light had begun to grow. Ymiron darted his head back while still on his hands and knees towards to glimmering source. The glorious grey sphere of the moon had appeared before him through the giant hole in his throne room. Its ambient light grew larger with every quick breath that escaped his lips. The darkness beneath his frame had completely vanished. A massive ball of light collided over his unprotected back and exploded in an ambient flicker of silver glory.

Another terrifying cry shot out of the king's mouth. His body slammed violently against the magnitude of the unexpected attack. The growing sense of agony swelling through his thoughts grew tenfold knowing he was now face down and flat on this stomach against these vile intruders.

Narula ceased her channeling. In lieu of raining down a mass of stars she concentrated her efforts into creating a single ball of energy guided by the grace of nature's devastating wrath. The spell was meant to cleanse the wicked and their baleful touch that would otherwise taint the beauty of this world. It was almost too good to use on a tyrant like Ymiron.

The dust had quickly settled after the brunt of the night elf's attack. Scratchy gouts of air slowly poured out of the king's battered frame. The nerves surrounding his body had gone silent. He could no longer feel them crying out in pain or much of anything at that moment. None of themuscles below his neck responded to any of his commands. His sword laid uselessly away mocking him in the lifeless grip of his severed arm.

Thick fingers dug into the stone floor. Nails scraped along the hard surface as Ymiron slowly began dragging his body forward. This humiliation would not be his end. If there was even one molecule of air in his lungs he would see to it that any and all of his adversaries would meet their ultimate demise. A king does not lose to a fly.

Rayne stared at the fallen vrykul. Even after suffering such a decisive defeat he desperately clung to the thought of victory. This was not the way the paladin had hoped for things to turn out. He could have spared this wretched agony if only he were willing to compromise. Some people had to learn the hard way.

The paladin gently raised his toe and tapped the tip of his greave on the ground. A tiny crack erupted from the sight of the blast. It traveled quickly branching off into numerous paths. The damaged trickling pattern folded underneath the slumping king's body and ended in a crudely shaped circle surrounding his once mighty being.

Light began to glow through the splints. It erupted in a glorious bath of energy. The ground burned as if it were in the center of a titanic volcano. Ymiron growled desperately trying to push himself away from this torment but had no strength left in his body to resist.

The king looked up at the paladin. His eyes wavered. This was no longer the same fierce opponent he had once faced. Ymiron had been humbled. His kingdom was in ruins. Never before had there been such a crushing blow dealt to the vrykul's. There was no need to fight against the inevitable anymore. The only thing he sought after was the answer to one final question.

"What… Awaits me… Now?"

Bright white light exploded from Rayne's eyes. He looked down upon the sad visage of the usurped king and gave him exactly what he was looking for.

"Judgment."

A giant hammer of light drove into Ymiron's sullen body. It exploded into a blinding flare of golden energy. The warm bath of the paladin's light dispersed nearly as quickly as it had arrived. Heaping piles of ashes sat in a dismal pile where the king once stood. The smell of justice was both sweet and foul on this occasion.

Where the sounds of bitter combat once took place was now filled with the dreary drone of silence. Rayne dispersed his golden wings. The incredible aura surrounding his body faded. Golden light dimmed from his eyes and allowed the piercing blue irises to return.

"Say boss," the gnome called. He kicked the soft patch of ash as he walked towards the paladin. "Does this mean we can stop pretending to suck at everything?"

Rayne couldn't help but laugh even though all that came out was a minor chuckle. He took a deep breath and admired the work of his proud companions. They had definitely proven their worth in more ways than one today.

"I believe so," the paladin nodded. "However, if my plan worked properly our ruse should carry on for just a bit longer but," he said while kneeling down and patting Weasel on his spike head. "There's no need to hold back anymore little friend."

"Hey!" The gnome spat wildly. He batted away the hand of his superior in a furious haste. "Why are you treating me like some kid?! I'm fifty years your senior, jerk!"

"Is that how you talk to your superiors you little shit?"

Marcus snatched the rogue by the tuft of his leather armor. He dangled the tiny being as they continued their usual bickering. Even after ridding this place with the stench of combat they were still eager to have at each other's throats.

"My my my," the mage sighed. "How things quickly return to normal."

"Cayden," Rayne replied while placing his hand on the mage's shoulder. "You did well today. Thank you for your outstanding work. I look forward to seeing what great things you're capable of in the future."

"I –!"

The mage stammered to find the appropriate sentiments to impart. He was used to receiving backhanded praise from his teachers but never before did he feel the pure hearted thanks from someone who was genuinely happy to have him at their service.

"I have never seen a mage at a loss for words before," the night elf giggled.

She stood by the paladin's side with her hand around his arm and proudly declared.

"Welcome to the family."

"T-Thank you!" Cayden squeaked.

It was all he could muster after feeling the heat rising through his face. He was used to residual warmth from firing off his favored spells but this was a unique experience unlike any other. Though his peers thought it was risky to join such a young and unproven guild, after today, the mage knew he made the right choice.

"Can we please leave this rotting hell hole?" Begged the gnome. He was still resting in the tight grip of the warrior.

The paladin shook his head.

"There is one last thing I need to do first."

Rayne walked past his allies. He stepped up to the massive throne and relished in this moment. Throughout his entire life people had told him that he was an exceptional person. Not even tarnishing his own reputation swayed their initial judgments. Living up to their gracious words proved to be the most arduous challenge anyone could face and one that could never be truly conquered. This was a proud day for this young paladin. It was just a small step in the grand scheme but the first of many he had hope to experience.

The paladin gazed behind the regal structure. A large ornate wooden chest adorned with bronze framing sat casually behind the throne as if long forgotten. Rayne kneeled and with a simple tug lifted the hood and revealed the prize waiting inside.

A shimmering red light glistened upon lifting the lid. The blade was glorious. It was uniquely crafted with two hulking flat frames at the top and bottom sections. The center was thinner and wrapped with fine leather straps. This shape carried a hefty weight between each swing and also allowed it to trap blades between each section. It was the perfect design to parry incoming attacks and subsequently retaliate. The hilt resembled the wingspan of a red dragon and had a glowing red aura emanating from its mass. Four tiny claws protruded from the tip and surrounded a brilliant yellow gem.

Rayne took the blade into his grip. Despite his previous reservations, the weapon felt marvelous in his hands. It was perfectly balanced through its odd shape and seemingly called out to him as he held it. The large gem in the center was almost golden in color and reminded him of the light all paladins were entrusted with. Perhaps not all blades carried a curse on them.

The remaining trinkets remained in the chest as the paladin sealed it once more. He stepped away from the throne and met his allies with a classic smile.

"Let's go."

* * *

 _Valgarde_

 _Howling Fjord_

The tranquil presence of the calming forest restored a bit of light into the paladin's soul. This place which once was ruled by the vile dragonflayer clan and their tyrannical king were quiet for the first time in years. Wyrmskull Village laid in ruins. The fires from the second company ensured that no more traces of their vile existence remained. They could have had a decent life here. There was plenty of food, lush vegetation, and some of the best scenery you could ever hope for. Things would have been a lot different had they chosen to serve someone other than the scourge.

"Did we seriously just walk away from all of that gold?!"

The warrior rolled his eyes.

This was not the first time the gnome asked that question. Ever since they left the keep that's all he's been complaining about. Rayne had reiterated several times that they were not treasure hunting. The king had only requested to retrieve the blade as proof of their success. Everything else belonged to his majesty to fund the continuous war efforts of the Valiance Expedition.

"This was a once in a lifetime experience," Cayden remarked. "There are some things that even money can't buy."

"Yea, but I can't buy a hot meal with experience kid," groaned Weasel.

He continued to mock the young mage by changing his tone to a much higher pitched squeal.

"Could you imagine the anarchy? _I would like one room at your inn please. Oh sure, and how will you be paying for this? Well, one time I floored a dwarf in a drinking contest by slipping some sleeping potion in his mug_."

The mage shook his head disapprovingly.

"You put such little value in what others would consider priceless."

"I think you put a little too much value in things that are worthless to everyone else," countered Weasel. "For such a smart guy, you sure are a few pages short of a spellbook Flame-Brain."

"What was that?!"

Rayne was happy to see everyone's spirits returning to normal. He felt no need to interfere with their playful squabbling. It was a true testament of their budding friendship. No one would get that emotional unless they truly cared about the other.

The Knights walked through the gates of Valgarde. Rayne was quite surprised to see all of Lena's soldiers standing in formation upon their arrival. The stains of combat were abundant. These men and woman had fought bravely under the Templar banner and achieved a great victory on this day.

Their eyes quickly fell towards the gleaming red sword affixed to the paladin's hip. Rayne kept no secrets about what this mission entailed. Seeing the blade in his possession was proof of their undeniable success.

Rounds of uproarious applause filled the gates. The soldiers began cheering their undisputed commander and his companions as they walked between the perfectly lined companies. Admiration poured over them. It was the first time in the paladin's life he actually felt a sense of pride; not because of the results of today but rather, because there were so many people who relied on and believed in him. This was truly everything he could have ever wanted. He wouldn't dare ask for anything more than what he had received.

"Sir!"

Lena proudly saluted the paladin as they approached. Streaks of dried blood stained her armor and bits of her hair. At least she took the time to wash her face off. She stood near the command center along with the surly Vice-Admiral trying to look as if he was paying attention to something else. A large brown sack laid by her feet.

Rayne saluted in kind. It was a bit more informal that he would have liked but he understood the merits of following protocol when it was required.

"How is everyone?" Asked the paladin. "Did we –"

The Captain shook her head. A smile briefly formed.

"We engaged the enemy in the requested formation. Currently we have twenty-two soldiers with minor to moderate wounds. Only twelve suffered critical injuries. They are being treated now at the sick bay. No one fell in battle."

"Narula," Rayne said turning to his trusted companion.

His sullen tone was a vain attempt to mask his regret. These soldiers went through hell based on his orders. All of their wounds suffered were his to blame. The least he could do was give them a bit of special treatment.

The night elf nodded. Her talents were especial adept in healing the wounded. It wasn't the most glorifying job but taking care of others was just in her nature.

"I will be happy to offer my assistance."

"Thank you," Lena praised. "Sergeant, please escort Ms. Dawngrove to the wounded."

The soldier eagerly saluted.

"Sir!"

Narula followed the Sergeant and quickly disappeared from view. The paladin did take his eyes off her until she was out of sight entirely. He turned make to the Captain to continue the debriefing.

"Lena, please see to it that the injured are on the first boat home once they are well enough to travel. Grant each of them two weeks of paid leave for their troubles."

"Yes sir."

The paladin was happy the total injuries were small but couldn't shake of the guilt for what has happened to them. Gold didn't have much value to him but at the very least, he could give them the time they needed to relax with their loved ones before returning to duty. Once that was settled, the debriefing continued.

"Where you able to find anything of value within the keep?"

"Yes sir!"

Lena handed the paladin a thick stack of tightly bound scrolls. He carefully opened them as the Captain continued.

"We found these in one of their meeting rooms. Several vrykul being commanded by a darkfallen Overlord of the scourge were having a discussion about them when we arrived. Battlements, formations, and future objectives that the scourge has been planning over the past few weeks after the initial landing took place."

"This is phenomenal Lena," admired the paladin. "And they just gave them up?"

"Not exactly."

A sinister grin came to life upon Lena's face. She lifted the brown sack and emptied the contents on the floor. Several heads spilled on the ground. Most of them once belonged to vrykul but the odd one out was the deep violet colored skull of the aforementioned darkfallen. The Captain's interrogation methods were both stern and not for the faint at heart.

"How disgusting."

The mage looked away. Subduing an enemy with a properly cast spell was nothing like running a blade through their neck. Only one required cleanup afterwards.

"So it is true," sighed Rayne. "The Lich King is gathering native allies to counter our efforts."

The paladin rolled up the contents of the scrolls and graciously handed them over to someone who would be better suited with this information.

"Vice-Admiral Keller," he called. "Please see to it that the leaders of the Valiance Expedition receives these documents. You needn't reveal our involvement in acquiring them. I was only tasked to retrieve this blade."

It took a few moments for the sailor to acknowledge Rayne's generosity but as soon as he turned around there was an unusual expression cast on his face. The scornful gaze he left them with as he departed vanished. This was much more hopeful and sympathetic.

"Looks like I was wrong about you kid," the Vice-Admiral exhaled. "When you deal with fresh new recruits and young adventurers looking to make a name for themselves, your outlook tends to turn a little grey. However, I'm man enough to admit when I've made a mistake. When the first thing out of a leader's mouth is to ask about the well-being of his troops, I know his heart is in the right place. That's a commendable trait and unfortunately, isn't one that can be taught so easily."

"Thank you Vice-Admiral Keller," Rayne smiled.

"I should be thanking you," he replied. "Our work here just got a hell of a lot easier. Now we'll have time to build up our fortifications and expand our operations. Plus, I'm going to be a real hero once I turn these in to High Commander Wyrmbane."

He proceeded to give the paladin an inquiring gaze.

"You sure you don't want any of the credit?"

Rayne shook his head and finished with another smile.

"Alright, you twisted my arm," Keller joked. Seeing him in a jovial state was a bit odd but refreshing nonetheless. "Where are you heading to now kid?"

The paladin gently tapped the hilt of his blade.

"To finish proving my worth."

"You kids and your cryptic slang," the Vice-Admiral sighed. "Fair enough. Thanks again for all of your hard work. You and your troops will always be welcomed in Valgarde. At least you'll have one good story floating around these frozen parts."

"Indeed," Rayne laughed. "Take care of yourself."

"You too kid."

The paladin turned towards his companions.

"Lena, see to it the men relax and enjoy a big meal tonight. They've earned it. Afterwards, have them remain on standby. Then, I want you to meet me at the Silver Covenant first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir," she replied. The inquisitive nature of the Captain begged her to follow up. "What's our next move?"

Rayne took a deep breath. It may very well be the last one he could enjoy on these grounds. He took hold of the sword on his hip and carefully tapped the end of the blade.

"I have a meeting in Dalaran," he smirked. "And you're going to Wintergrasp."

 **End of Act II**


	18. Chapter 17

_Wintergrasp Fortress_

 _Wintergrasp_

Orange glazed mountains provided a much needed change of color in this dreary place. The sun was getting ready to set. Jean had spent all day making preparations and coordinating future plans. By the time he noticed, the day was already over. Nothing felt done. So much time was wasted cleaning up messes than properly planning a defensive initiative. This assignment was proving to be more of a burden than an honor.

"Sir!"

The Commander turned around and was greeted by the saluting Tactical Officer and two new guests. They were much more decorated and colorful than any of the soldiers standing guard in this fortress. Jean responded in kind.

"Are these the warriors I requested?"

"Yes sir," nodded Kilrath.

He gestured his arm towards the brawnier of the two. Thick tufts of fur poked out of the corners of his midnight black plate armor.

"This is Delsatan Lightninghide. He served as a Sergeant to High Overlord Saurfang in Warsong Hold and comes with his personal recommendation. Delsatan is especially skilled at gladiatorial combat based on experiences in his former life."

The tauren stared calmly at Jean with his glowing teal eyes. White puffs of smoke exited out of his massive demonic shaped helm. Working with death knights would be a new challenge for the Commander seeing as his talents represented the polar opposite side of the paladin spectrum. He certainly carried enough weaponry. Two longblades with glowing runic enchantments hung of opposing sides of his waist and a large titansteel forged mace was slung on his back.

"Welcome Delsatan," Jean greeted. "I will be relying on your strength. Thank you for responding to my request."

"I live to serve the Horde," the tauren saluted. "My orders are to follow your every command, Commander Starstrider."

"And this," the Tactical Officer stated pointed towards the pale-skinned companion wearing an ornate black and glowing green robe, "is Ulrick Cursesong. His talents are second only to his unprecedented reputation. He alone laid siege to the Temple City of En'kilah and within an hour had slain all three high priests lurking inside the fortress."

"Enslaved," the forsaken corrected.

His black tongue ran over the curved green dagger with a massive slurp.

"They resisted at first of course but I can be especially convincing when the need arises," he finished with a high-pitched cackling. "They once called me mad. Now they just call me master."

"If I remember correctly, they also call you the Butcher of Telredor," Jean stated.

"To be known by someone of your standing is an honor Commander Starstrider," bowed the haphazard warlock.

The stories lived in infamy. Telredor was a simple Alliance outpost in the Zangarmarsh region of the Outlands. On the day the Alliance Expedition was packing their things to return home, the entire town was attacked by a legion of dark minions. They slaughtered everyone leaving their bodies to rot in the humidity for days before they were found. Leading the charge was the one known as Ulrick Cursesong. When questioned by his Horde commanders as to the reasons for his actions, he simply laughed and said he had nothing else better to do that day. That is the mentality of a rogue operator. Getting him to fall in line would prove to be another daunting task but lucky for Jean, his reputation was still one to be respected and feared.

"Kilrath, please show these men to their posts."

"Yes sir," the orc saluted.

Having a forsaken in his midst was dangerous for morale. Most members of the Horde still haven't forgiven them for the actions of their rogue operators during the Wrathgate fiasco. Even one was famous as Cursesong was liable to stir up trouble amongst the soldiers. Sadly Jean did not have a choice in the matter. He was short on manpower and if these two came highly recommended than it was his duty as Commander of this fortress to ensure that the mission took precedence over all feelings, history, or egos.

There were a lot of things weighing on his mind. The sun was nearly set and Jean desperately needed a change of scenery. Perhaps back in Dalaran there would be some more appealing news to be had. At the very least, he could enjoy a nice meal with his beloved sister.

* * *

 _The Silver Enclave_

 _Dalaran_

Rayne sensed many eyes glaring over him as he walked with his companions through the main hall. The Silver Enclave was the main base of operations for the Alliance. His presence here was expected but not at this magnitude. Many weeks had been spent ensuring that the paladin's reputation was sullied enough that no one would expect any great things out of him. Now he was already turning some heads despite his previously bold efforts.

The structure was massive. Arched alcoves filled the path leading towards a massive opening. Golden statues of proud Alliance warriors were standing in various heroic poses across the raised walkway with blue faction banners hanging just underneath. A much larger sculpture carved out of luscious silver marble with golden accents on the armor depicted the grand visage of Aleria Windrunner. Her incredible efforts guided the Alliance to victory. This statue was personally requested by her sister Veleera as a symbol to inspire and revere.

In the center of the room sat the latest innovation in modern engineering. Cogs of various shapes and sizes melded into the tank's massive frame. A three-hundred and sixty degree cannon allows passengers to fend off any potential saboteurs that would attempt to weaken the vehicle in a blind spot. The most impressive feature is the steam-powered battering ram that can reduce even the most stubborn fortification to rubble.

"Say Rayne," Weasel began. "Are you sure it's okay leaving Cayden and Narula behind?"

"You don't think those two can't take care of themselves?" The warrior replied raising an eyebrow. "Personally, I would have left your sorry ass back there but unless your body odor can mend wounds your about as useful as legless horse."

"Really? We're really going to start this again?"

The paladin laughed quietly.

"Narula's skills are needed with our soldiers. And Cayden is assisting the Valiance Expedition with securing and cataloging all of the treasure. If there are any magic artifacts found, it will be of great use to identify them quickly."

"That's why you're the big picture guy," smiled the gnome which faded quickly into a more grimacing stare. "Hey wait! The only reason you brought me here is because you didn't want me near the treasure. Admit it!"

"You're just realizing that now?" Marcus chuckled. "Our fearless leader's got a pretty good head between those large spaulders. And if you ask me, I think he was just keeping a certain someone from finding out about his many fans in town."

The paladin sulked where he stood. Being constantly teased and reminded of such horrifying thoughts always dug at the most excruciating places within his heart. Keeping Narula away from here was never his intention; it was more of an added bonus. That was not a path he was ready to start without at least having a proper conversation about it. There were still plenty of things he needed to tell her, one of which had been clawing away at him for quite some time. The fact that he hadn't even brought it up was tugging at his conscious.

Standing in front of the siege engine with an unusually chipper expression was a high elf draped in violet colored robes. The finely stitched designs magnified the elf's already commanding presence. His azure colored eyes stood prominently against the custard color of his shimmering long hair.

"Archanist Braedin?"

The paladin approached confidently while extending his arm.

"Raymond Templar I presume," the elf replied with a minor smirk.

"Please, call me Rayne," he requested while gesturing over towards the allies standing next to him. "And this is Marcus and Weasel, two of my most trusted allies."

"Yes," he laughed. "I have read the reports on you and your Knights thoroughly. I must say, you are much more impressive in action than on paper."

"We try, succeed mostly," joked the paladin. He reached for the gleaming red blade and removed it from his waist. "I believe you were looking for this."

"Indeed," smiled the elf.

He took the weapon in his hands and examined it not so much for its unique shape or combat prowess but rather, its authenticity.

"I believe the king will be excited to hear of your victory. Ymiron proved to be more of a burden to our mission than we originally anticipated. His defeat should free up the resources we need to expedite our conquest in the south-east. This is a monumental accomplishment. We are in your debt Rayne."

"I am honored that my meager skills maybe of some use," Rayne stated following a tight salute. "For the Alliance."

The Archanist responded in kind.

"For the Alliance."

Surprisingly Braedin took the sword and returned it back to the paladin. Rayne slowly reached for it with a bewildered expression glazed over his face.

"I thought my task was to deliver the sword and submit it to the king?"

"The task was to defeat King Ymiron," smiled the elf. "The blade is merely proof of your accomplishment. King Varian wanted to ensure his new commander of the Alliance forces was well equipped for battle."

A shadow loomed over Rayne's heart. Thoughts trickled back to the discussion with his father back at Light's Hope Chapel. His mace was more than adequate to handle the task at hand. It had aided him sufficiently and was more than just a weapon, it was a symbol of his utter devotion to the light. There was nothing that could deliver the light's justice more purely than the might of a hearty hammer. However, something about this weapon called out to him. The name itself inspired hope and valor. And if this was truly a formal request from the king himself, Rayne was privileged to be considered for such a task.

"I am honored," the paladin replied taking the sword into his grip. Any apprehensions he had towards using this in combat would have to be set aside. Duty took precedence over pride.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"We have much to discuss. Unfortunately, there are many prying even within these guarded walls," the Archanist stated. "Follow me."

The group walked up the raised pathway towards the back of the massive hall. A highly decorated archway depicting various sigils representing the Alliances and the individual factions that take part in it. It opened to a rectangular room lined with bookshelves. A large table in the center held various scrolls, maps, and miniature war pieces carved from wood. It was surrounded by another group of individuals all brandishing tabards or sigils with the golden lion logo of the Alliance.

After each member of the Templar Knights entered, the Archanist shut the door and locked it tight.

"Welcome to the War Room gentlemen," introduced Braedin. "Unlike our brothers serving in Icecrown with the Argent Crusade, we plan all of our faction specific stratagems within these walls. It is no secret that tensions have grown thicker even with a common enemy pressing at our gates. We have been devising our strategy to retake Wintergrasp for quite some time."

The Archanist moved to join the rest of his group behind the table.

"Allow me to introduce some of the members you'll be working with." Braedin began with the shortest member of the group.

The bald gnome may have looked ancient with his pronounced grey beard but his fierce brown eyes could cut through steel with a single glance.

"This is Tactical Officer Ahbramis. He oversees all of our engineering workshops and development of our siege vehicles and weaponry."

"Pleased to meet you!"

His voice was much gruffer than a typical gnome. If the heavy plates of steel armor were any indication, Ahbramis was a combat veteran. Rayne knew first hand just how well gnomes worked in the field of engineering. There would be no issues getting along with a fellow gear-head.

"Next is Anchorite Tessa. She's our environmental liaison and medical expert. Due to the geographical proximity and altitude fluctuations, Wintergrasp is among the coldest regions in Northrend. Tessa will assist our soldiers by providing medicinal aid and support throughout the battle."

"Blessings upon you," she stated while bowing.

A disgusting feeling crept up the paladin's back. Rayne could sense the gnome drooling even without taking his eyes off the awe-inspiring draeni. Weasel was always a sucker for a woman with good lucks. Her ivory skin was smooth as if carved out of the finest stone. It complimented her shining silver hair and glowing white eyes that seemed to pierce directly into the hearts of anyone that was privileged enough to sneak a peek.

Braedin moved on to the next woman who Rayne immediately recognized. Her bright auburn hair was delicately parted and sat gently across her shoulders. The color of her robes was a lot different than the other mages she associated with. Instead of the classic purple, violet, and pastel motif members of the Kirin Tor were known for, this young woman's attire mimicked the classic white, blue and gold colors of the Alliance.

"Sorceress Kaylana is the youngest member of our group but she comes highly recommended by Archmage Rhonin himself."

"I remember," the paladin smiled. "We met a few months back when I paid the Archmage a visit. How are you doing Kaylana?"

"Great!" She eagerly replied. "It's good to see you again. I hope Cayden's not giving you any trouble."

"Not in the slightest," remarked Rayne. "Though you were on point about his temper. That takes some getting used to."

"Right?" Kaylana laughed. "Well, if he proves to be too hot to handle please come see me personally."

Her eyes looked away for a moment as she twiddled her thumbs at the edge of the table.

"Or if you just want to stop by and say hello, that's fine too."

"You've got to be kidding me," the warrior groaned barely above a whisper. "Another one Rayne?"

"I'm not doing this on purpose," cringed the paladin while slyly leaning into Marcus' ear.

"Kaylana is our magus resource. Our scouts have reported finding some unique trinkets and bestiary in the area. She will help identify and assist with any arcane eccentricities while in the field. Based on our initial reports, there appears to be quite a bit so do not be afraid to utilize her as a constant and consistent resource."

"I'm sure Rayne will have no problems riding her into the ground," shrugged the gnome.

"Weasel!" The warrior snapped.

Terror brewed beneath his eyes as the poor mage merely averted her gaze and stared off into the distance. No doubt the gnome's words were lovingly swimming in her mind.

The Templar Knights reputation may still have a few hurdles to climb. Braedin still had one last person to introduce and hoped it would ease the awkwardness beginning to boil.

"And finally –"

"This bastard doesn't need any introduction," Marcus interrupted. He stomped over and wrapped the similarly dressed warrior in a loose headlock. "What's the matter Zanneth? You losing weight out here?"

A muscular arm found its way around Marcus' neck and pulled him tightly.

"That's _Commander_ Zanneth you old dog," he grinned back.

They released one another and finished by quickly slamming their knuckles together.

"What are you doing with a badge Zanny?" Marcus quipped. "You're a frontlines guy. I never expected you to take the reins when they feel so good around your neck."

"I can say the same for you Bloodblade," laughed Zanneth. "I was shocked when I didn't see your name on the expedition volunteer list. Even more so when I heard what you were really up to when you should have been here in the trenches."

The Commander was obviously referring to the colorful reputation Rayne had cultivated of failure and disgrace. It still stings to hear it even though it was all just a ruse.

"Ah, the kid's got a good head on his shoulders," Marcus stated. "Besides, if I had known I'd be taking orders from you, I would've drowned myself in the Maelstrom."

"Ahem, Commander Zanneth."

The pleas coming from the Archanist were subtle and stern. Rayne couldn't blame them though. They seemed very similar in both demeanor and looks. If it weren't for the red bandana and his short brown hair, the paladin would have difficulty telling them apart.

"Right," coughed Zanneth. "I'm leading the forward team as well as managing the resources for the defense of our current footholds."

"How many soldiers do we currently have available?" Rayne asked.

This would be the key deciding factor on how they would proceed from here on out.

"Currently I have a three companies at one hundred soldiers a piece. However, one of those companies is split guarding the four workshops so that realistically leaves us with only two hundred. We've been trying to hire volunteers but so far our luck's been running low and the king can't afford to pull any more of his resources which is why we're hoping you could help us out in that department."

That was depressing. Rayne was told before taking up this assignment that King Varian was assembling a massive force. Of course, with a war going on priorities can quickly change. Perhaps his victory at Utgarde put more faith in the paladin than he initially let on.

"Unfortunately," Rayne started. He hated leading with bad news but it was vital that they figure out all of their weaknesses before laying down the foundation of their strategy. "I have two hundred as well. Another eighteen back at home though it would take a few days to mobilize and bring them here."

"Time nor numbers do not appear to be on our side," the Archanist interjected. "I'm am fairly certain the Horde has gotten wind of our plans to attack their fortress. In order to increase our chances of success we'll need to strike in next two days. The longer we wait, the more opportunities they have to fortify and recruit more soldiers to their defense. It will be suicide otherwise."

"They know we're coming?"

Weasel's raised eyebrow nearly exceeded his own height. After working for SI:7 throughout most of his life, the bar was set very high for standards regarding confidentiality.

"What kind of lax information department are you guys running here?"

"This finding was based on no leak," Braedin replied. "We received a new piece of intelligence this morning that has lead us to that conclusion."

The Archanist retrieved a small scroll from the table and handed it to the paladin. Before Rayne could analyze the contents, Braedin continued.

"We have just received word that the Horde has appointed a new commander to their defensive. He is an exceedingly skilled and decorated soldier in his own right. When the expedition to Outland began, he led the charge of his people all the way through Blades Edge Mountain. It is rumored that he even bested Gruul the Dragonkiller in single combat while his squad merely watched and cheered. That alone earned him the title of _the Lightning Blade_ since his strikes happen in such quick succession that if you blink, you're already dead."

Rayne's eyes went wide. The paper nearly trembled in his grip. He never thought their paths would ever cross again. This was not the friendly reunion he was hoping to have with him once again.

"Jean Starstrider," Rayne stated nearly crumbling the parchment within his gauntlets.

The Archanist looked puzzled.

"You speak as if you know him."

Rayne steeled his eyes and gave the elf a deadly look.

"We've met."

It was only a couple of days where they were sharing drinks together in blissful harmony. Though their time was brief this became a dreadful cause for concern. While Jean himself didn't know much about the paladin, there was someone they both shared mutual interest who knew a whole lot more. This was going to seriously complicate matters in ways no one could have ever foreseen. Judging by the looks on everyone's faces Rayne had a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

 _Sunreaver's Sanctuary_

 _Dalaran_

Nights in Dalaran were always a sight to behold. The Kirin Tor had done a miraculous job on the city's architecture. Every structure seemingly lit up as if they were housing a star within the peaks of each column. Most of the visitors had already retired for the evening or returned home. That left some areas of town desolate and quiet, just the way he liked it.

Jean quickly marched through the path with small squad of soldiers following closely behind. He felt a greater sense of ease in their presence. These were men he could trust to follow his commands without questions. He wasn't even on the ground for five minutes before having to physically dispose of someone for insubordination.

Every soldier saluted the Commander as he entered the sanctuary and walked through its halls. Security was a little more lenient at night but the proud elven brothers still maintained their sense duty even in times of uneventfulness.

"You men are dismissed for the evening," Jean stated without even turning his head to address them personally.

"Sir!" They replied in unison.

The Commander continued along the path as if unhindered by any other encroaching thought. It was already getting really late and without wanting to admit it to anyone else he was rather hungry. Not just for food but also for information. Lorelei had been on her own nearly all day and he desperately wanted to catch up.

"Excuse me Commander," called a voice in one of the open offices.

Jean would have continued walking without haste if it wasn't a voice he recognized and wanted to speak with.

"Sergeant Coldreaver," nodded the Commander.

They waived the formalities of saluting since most prying eyes were out front guarding the building's exterior. Jean entered the office and shut the door behind him.

"What news have you brought me?"

The Sergeant handed his superior a scroll tied in a black silk cloth. With one small tug the strip released its hold on the parchments. Jean didn't even care to pour through its contents as the Sergeant spoke.

"We have received a new piece of information regarding the Alliance's assault on Wintergrasp," Coldreaver stated. "They have apparently found someone new to lead their forces into battle. We're still working on gathering more information. All we have right now is a name."

The Commander's eyes narrowed as he stared at the aforementioned newest commander. His name was all too familiar in the best and worst ways possible. Fate was indeed playing a cruel joke on both of them.

"That's not the report I was looking for," Jean stated.

He didn't have time to weigh in on this matter now. There were more pressing things that required his attention.

"Where is the information I required you to obtain today?"

"That's just it Commander," replied the Sergeant. "That scroll contains both reports since they coincidentally happen to be related to one another."

A new sense of dread brooded in Jean's heart. He clearly needed to have a very long talk with his dear sister.

* * *

Lorelei continued to dangle the freshly cut boar chop over Emerald's head. She sat on the edge of the bed leaning over ever so slightly to reach her beloved tiger. The apartment furnishings were quite nice in this establishment. Familiar silk tapestry hung from the windows of obvious elven origin. Another bedroom was just a few skips away but the young elf did not expect her brother to return this evening to claim it.

"Wait for it," she smiled taunting the pet with a gentle swing near his nose. The young elf continued dragging each syllable slowly with a wicked grin.

The tiger purred attentively listening to his master's every word. If he was going to eat tonight, he had to be patient as commanded. Lorelei felt bad for not taking him with her today so she splurged on a treat for him. Just because she was being a little nice didn't mean he wouldn't have to continue to obey her without question.

"Good boy," she said while dropping the juicy hunk of meat into the tiger's salivating mouth.

He disposed of it quickly almost forgetting to chew it seemed. Lorelei ran her thin fingers along Emerald's ears and gently scratched his favorite spot. Feeling his soft fur reminded her of someone else that managed to turn this pet into putty with just a simple touch. Another wide smile grew upon her lips. No matter how hard she tried, even the simplest things reminded her of him. Maybe he'll be back here again soon. The young elf couldn't wait to see him again. They had a lot of things to discuss.

Wood maliciously cracked as the door burst open violently. Lorelei darted her head towards the entrance. Breaths raced out of her lungs. Her heart viciously thumped in response to the sudden shock. An intruder in this place and at this hour would be almost unheard of. They would have to get nearly every guard in the building to reach this place. Her trusty bow was tucked in a closet several feet away but it couldn't save her now as a familiar figure slowly began to take shape in the doorway.

"Jean?" Gasped Lorelei. "What are you doing? You scared –"

The Commander entered the room and slammed the door behind him. His deep green eyes didn't once blink while gazing upon her. A look of sheer grimace was plastered on his expression. The young elf had not seen her brother like this in years and certainly was never at the receiving end of it as she was on this night.

"Good evening Lorelei."

Another massive beat of her heart shook at the young elf's conscious. This tone was cold and unfamiliar. Something was not right.

"What's going on Jean? Why are you –"

"I thought I made myself clear in Silvermoon," Jean hissed while starring through the nearby window. "And yet, in front of our peers, allies and sworn enemies you continue to defy my wishes."

"What are you -," pleaded the young elf before cutting herself off mid-sentence.

She slowly started to realize why her brother was acting so abhorrent on this otherwise calm evening.

"I thought I was enough for you. I thought that together we would need nothing else," he stated while returning his gaze upon her. "Nor anyone else."

Jean sighed as his demeanor took a calmer turn. His eyes had trouble staying focused on the young elf.

"I was happy. I thought you were too. We had a good life; one not afforded to many in this world. I worked tirelessly against insurmountable odds at time to ensure our stability. At the end of each day, the only thing I ever wanted was to see your face and hear your tender voice calling out to me."

"Jean please –"

"But that was not the name you were clawing after today!"

His voice snapped into a torrent of rage. The same vile look on animosity surrounded Lorelei. Jean continued leered down pouring his anger thoroughly over her body. However, the young elf was not easily as swayed as she once was. A faint light that had recently started to flourish began radiating through her soul.

"You were spying on me?" She cursed.

The words dripped like poison over her lips. She had actually trusted her brother when he offered her a change of scenery from the tall walls of Silvermoon. Some things never change.

"Of course," scoffed the Commander. "Do you think I would let you roam around this city where our enemies freely traverse the streets without any protection? Especially after the stunt you pulled a few days ago? I couldn't let you stay in Silvermoon by yourself. I needed you to stay close so you would do anything foolish. I can't believe you would continue to dishonor me in such a humiliating fashion."

"Honor?" Lorelei murmured. "You toyed with me, scorned me, and played me for a fool and for what? To save your precious pride?"

"I will not explain the importance of what I'm doing yet again. You are smarter than that. If you weren't, you would have been dead a long time ago."

"I feel like I'm dying now!" Snapped the young elf. "You're always looming over me, watching everything I do. You think you're providing me with a breadth of experience and yet here I stand suffocating over your twisted version of affection."

"Twisted?" The grimacing elf cracked. "My life has been devoted to _protecting_ you. _Loving only_ you. Do you know how many potential lovers I have spurned? How many marriage arrangements I have rejected because I knew they would monopolize my time away from you?"

"I never asked you to do that."

"That's because it is my duty. I live for you Lorelei. My sacrifices have ensured our prolific survival in this unforgiving world. I can't have you throwing it all away for some fruitless infatuation with someone you had only known for a single day."

His words cut deep but not in the way he was expecting. Lorelei was not about to have her feelings trivialized in such a demeaning manor.

"It's not like that," she whimpered.

It proved challenging to fight back the tears welling in the corners of her eyes. The resentment building within her kept them choked down.

"When I'm with you I feel like I've got a shadow looming over me. You're so much stronger, dependable, and reliable that I end up feeling like a burden. I tried to live beside you, even for a brief moment, and that was the one time I truly felt alive."

"Lorelei," Jean sighed. He no longer possessed the same hold on her as before. "I –"

"And when I'm with him," the young elf interrupted.

She bit her lip to stifle the feelings that would surely rise when he entered her thoughts.

"I feel as if I am an equal. He didn't make me feel weak or timid. I was so rude and threatening when we first met and he never held it against me. I want to live up to the standard he sets for himself. He makes me want to become a better person and I want to be just like him. I feel as if I am stronger in his presence than I am yours. And I want to continue chasing that feeling. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can be more than what I am. I couldn't have done that if I had never met Rayne."

"Nonsense," her brother spat. "Nothing but the naïve words of a child."

Lorelei's eyes snapped open. Her brother was fighting dirty now. She's never seen him act so belittling; especially with her.

"But Jean –"

"But nothing! I will not have my intelligence or wisdom questioned when you display none of it yourself. This is merely a hapless phase you will inevitably grow out of. I will not have you squander everything I worked for just to chase an insipid feeling in your heart."

Jean took a moment for his words to sink in.

"You are obviously not thinking clearly. That man has poisoned your mind and clouded your judgment. You cannot see what the future holds for you but I can." Her brother leaned close to her.

It was the first time he looked sympathetic since this whole mess started.

"Nothing but heartbreak and sadness awaits you. No good can come of this. Believe me."

"You're doing it again," she snarled.

These conversations always had a way of ending in similar fashion. Lorelei was not about to submit so easily. The courage infusing her body was a sign that she was on the right path and it was all thanks to him.

"I don't understand –"

"All of my life you have always tried to teach me what's best in life, what to avoid, and what I needed to do to survive. All of my life I had followed your lead and done exactly as I asked. All of my life I have been taught who to fear and who to hate without ever having experienced these things for myself."

Tears began pooling in the bottom of her eyelids. She could not fight them back as easily this time because they were not filled with only sadness.

"But the first time I threw all that away and decided to go out on my own is when I truly learned what the world was all about. The monsters I was taught to fear didn't end up being as scary as I was told. The people I was taught to hate didn't end up being as terrible as they had been described. And the world I lived in I quickly learned was a much different place outside those walls than within. I don't want to be locked in a cage. I don't want to live in blissful ignorance anymore. There is a whole world out there to experience and after just one single day of searching on the outside, I finally found something that makes me happy other than you Jean."

Her words seemed to throw caution to Jean's expression. His stance was a little looser and he no longer possessed a stern grimace.

"I cannot accept this," he stated while shaking his head. "Nor will I allow you to throw away your life so recklessly."

"You can't control me anymore Jean."

"Perhaps you are right. If the last few days are any indication my words have commands have fallen upon deaf ears. I may be unable to control your actions but..."

Jean's tone grew somber as he looked into his sister's eyes with renewed sincerity.

"Can you really survive on your own without me?"

A dire expression befell the elder blood elf. His piercing green eyes steeled as he bore the weight of his next words with a devastatingly cryptic leer.

"And… Would you want to?"

Lorelei thought about the gravity of that question. She learned the meaning of thriving and surviving the hard way both as a child and an adventurer. Losing Jean was something she never even fathomed as part of this equation. However, the last thing she wanted was for him to be that stalwart barrier continuously holding her back. The world was not black and white as her brother had painted it all of these years. Everybody had to the right to find their purpose in this life. Lorelei just wanted the chance to keep on searching.

"I don't know," she sobbed.

A single tear slid down her cheek and rested upon her chin.

"But if that's the way you see it, I'm willing to take that risk."

"Very well," he began. Jean's dismissive tone was abrupt but still pleasing to the young elf's ears. However, he was not quite finished. "But that was not my only reason for visiting you this evening. I'll have you know that we have procured some intelligence about my current assignment. The Alliance has selected their champion to lead the charge against the Horde controlled fortress at Wintergrasp."

Lorelei's eyes widened. The way he spoke was almost as if he were mocking her. Knots began to well in her stomach as he casually posed a question she had no intention of asking nor even placating the thought of listening.

"Would you care to know the name of this man?"

"No…" The young elf sniffled.

She didn't want to hear it. It couldn't possibly be true.

"It appears I needn't say anything else," he replied. "There is nothing more I can do."

Jean stood up and casually strolled out of the room without saying another word. Lorelei watched him leave in perpetual slow motion. Every beat of her heart slowed down as the light began to dwindle. The door slowly closed creating a permanent barrier between the young elf and her brother. It quietly shut and the room remained in utter silence.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Lorelei never wanted to watch Jean come at odds with a man that had touched her heart so deeply. What made it even worse was the fact that now both of them were competing not only against each other on the battlefield but for a place in heart as well. She didn't want it to come to this. Choosing between either of them was not an option. Even though her previous words were unyielding Lorelei could not overcome her brother's sense of duty. There was no telling what the future had in store for either of them.

Tears began to flow from her eyes. The young elf came so close to getting exactly what she wanted only to watch it rip away from her grasp in an instant. She just didn't expect it to hurt this much.


	19. Chapter 18

_Runeweaver Square_

 _Dalaran_

It was just past midnight and the paladin was barely able to think straight. They had spent hours going over their current capabilities and potential strategies and at the end it felt like they were right back where they started. They no longer had the luxury of time. Everything Rayne had worked towards was riding on the success of this mission which had abruptly received an additional challenge. It was hard to concentrate on anything knowing exactly who was waiting for him on the other side of that fortress.

"I did not expect that to take so long. I'm starving," yawned the gnome. "I can practically smell Isirami's sweet potato bread calling my name."

Marcus did not share in his short companion's enthusiasm for a hot meal. He was more concerned with the attitude of his surprisingly morose guild leader.

"Do you really think we can pull this off Rayne?"

"I hope so," nodded the paladin.

Whenever Marcus called him by his name and not some kind of pronoun or silly nickname meant he wasn't kidding around.

"I'm not sure how exactly but I've got a couple of ideas in the works. I just need some time to fully analyze and process them all."

"Is that so?"

The warrior did not seem convinced. Unfortunately Rayne didn't have any additional answers to give at this point. There were a lot of things running through his thoughts that not even a good night's rest could fix.

"What about Narula?" Questioned the warrior. "Have you told her about what happened at the Plaguelands?"

The paladin shook his head. Marcus always had a knack for asking the questions no one was ready to answer.

"It hasn't come up," Rayne replied.

He sulked even lower knowing full well he could have made the time to do so but decidedly kept it hidden. The paladin never wanted to keep anything from her. If anything, he was willing to share _everything_ with her including his life and eternal love. However, something about the entire incident has left him wrecked with guilt. He wasn't sure exactly how but any time the young elf came into his memory something called out within his heart unlike anything he had ever felt prior.

"Well, I'm sure you'll make the right decision. You haven't steered us wrong yet," the warrior joked.

"Thanks."

Rayne forced a smile and continued walked towards the fountain in the center of the square.

"Yo boss?" Called the gnome. He pointed towards the big building titled A Hero's Welcome where a hot meal and warm bed awaited them. "Are you not coming inside for some grub and shut eye?"

"I'll be back soon," waved the paladin. "I think a walk will help me clear my thoughts."

"Alright then," Weasel shrugged. "See you tomorrow."

"Night boss," nodded the warrior.

His companions disappeared inside of the inn. They definitely had the right idea in mind but Rayne just didn't feel like settling down at this moment. Restless thoughts continued to nag at him. There were so many variables to consider and with each painstaking issue came a multitude of questions that needed answering.

Rayne took a seat at the edge of the fountain. He dropped his thick forearms over his knees and sulked in silence. The night was surprisingly quiet. Only a few drunks roamed the streets and even then they were being mindful of their actions. No one wanted to earn a bad reputation in this city. The guards that protect Dalaran are not ones to be trifled with either. They had been known to eject a ruffian or two. The last thing anyone wanted was the reputation of being a known troublemaker in one of the best places in all of Azeroth.

That last thought really tugged at the paladin. Dalaran really was an incredible city. Part of him regretted not bringing Narula here in the first place. His reputation with some of the locals paled in comparison with his feelings towards the beautiful night elf. It seemed like ever since he'd enter this horrid continent his relationships were slowly starting to change. Some for the better and some were getting subtly worse without even realizing it. Narula deserved better than that. She meant the world to Rayne. The fact that the paladin was showing even the slightest bit of hesitation around her was eating away at him.

"Yo, Lady-killer."

Rayne snapped his head up. He quickly caught the eyes of the man calling out to him by that atrocious nickname.

"Lucian," responded the paladin as he stood up off the fountain. "What are you doing out here? Especially at this time of night?"

"Follow me."

The paladin wasted no time chasing down the owner of One More Glass. He moved quickly though the east passage of Runeweaver Square and made a sharp turn north directly into his shop. Fialla wasn't at her usual spot outside. It was already late enough as is even for a winery.

Lucian allowed Rayne to enter his shop and calmly locked shut the door behind them. A few candles were lit near the main table and along sconces up the stairs but this place was otherwise quiet.

"I'm sorry to call you out so suddenly Rayne," began Lucian. "Normally I don't like to get myself involved in spats between factions but you're not just a customer, you're a friend so I figured I owed you one."

"What are you talking about?"

Rayne's puzzled expression didn't begin to cover the spectrum of theories running through his head. It's true that vendors in this place overhear a lot of things but based on the simple statements made just now, they were treading in some pretty dark waters.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but we had a unique visitor today. I wouldn't call into question our customer's colorful personalities given the influx of new visitors we've had lately but this one was different. Someone came by here specifically to ask questions about you."

"What?"

Rayne was confused. He really didn't see what the fuss was about. Over the last couple of weeks, there were a lot of people talking about him around town. Most of it was bad but that was the intention. Still, Lucian looked too worked up for this to be any small deal.

"Normally I wouldn't think anything of it but this particular customer was a lot different from the rest. She was from the Horde."

Something didn't add up. Dalaran was a neutral city. There were plenty of Horde members roaming its streets as there were Alliance.

"I'm not sure I share your concern Lucian."

"Well you should," the vendor stated. "Fialla was chatting her up like an idiot. I was just lucky enough to stop her before she could reveal any personal information."

"Sorry Rayne," the elven girl begged while peaking her head out of the upstairs doorway.

"Fialla!"

She quickly retreated back into her room after the stern threat from her boss.

"It's alright Lucian," remarked Rayne.

Now it was starting to make sense. The paladin's heart slowly increased in speed as he continued.

"This girl, was she elven, about this tall?" He asked raising his flat hand resting just under his chin. "Blonde hair? Green eyes?"

"That sounds about right."

"Lorelei..." Whispered the paladin under his breath.

"So you do know her?"

"It's a long story."

"Say no more. Wine and cheese are my business. Whatever you've got going on the side is none of mine. I may not be privy to your romantic affairs but I can always offer you some free advice."

Rayne remained silent not signifying whether he was accepting or rejecting Lucian's proposal.

"Handle this quickly and quietly. The last thing you need is your buddies in the Alliance hearing about one of their own fraternizing with the enemy. I know you've already sullied your good name on the battlefield. Don't go adding traitor to the list as well."

"Right," nodded the paladin. "Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it Lucian."

"Anytime Rayne," the vendor replied. "Just remember to visit us again whether you're celebrating or drowning some sorrows."

"I will," Rayne laughed. "Good night Fialla."

"Night Rayne!" Called the elf from above.

"Fialla!"

The paladin exited the winery and closed the door behind him. Sounds of their bickering soon went silent as Rayne walked back through the square. He had come to this place looking to ease his mind when all he found were more problems mounting atop one another. The ones that showed the least concern were quickly moving up the list.

After the incident at Silvermoon, Rayne never expected to see her again. Her brother seemed extraordinarily strict despite his overall compassion towards the young elf. There was no doubt about it. Lorelei was in Dalaran and she had certainly not forgotten about Rayne. This was definitely proving to be a complicated evening. If he was having problems silencing his thoughts before, there was no way he'd be able to calm them down knowing full well what may await him. Worst of all, Narula was scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning. He had no idea what he was going to say to either of them. The only thing he could hope for was that the light would listen to his prayers and keep them from crossing paths.

* * *

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

 _Wintergrasp_

The crisp morning air filled the Commander's lungs. He had returned to the fortress last night after the conversation with his sister sullied his mood. The encampment here provided ample bedding. He hardly felt his muscles tightening on the damp rocky ground. The pain of what had transpired still clasped at his soul. Jean had never fought with his sister like that. Her rebellious tendencies had grown immensely as she has entered adulthood. It upset him to admit it but perhaps he was holding her back in some ways. The only thing a caged creature yearns for is freedom. If only he had allowed Lorelei some occasional liberties perhaps things would have been different.

If only she hadn't have met _him_.

Jean perished that thought. If it weren't for Rayne Templar, her sister would have been killed by the scourge. He owed him a vast debt of gratitude that words alone could not suffice. However, they served opposing factions. Neither one of them could openly disobey the others without strict castigation. The Commander wasn't sure how the Alliance punished treason but the Horde would certainly not be as forgiving. This was Jean's livelihood at stake. Every bit of suffering and sacrifice had come to this moment. There was no reason to debate it further. The die had been cast. It didn't matter who stood on the other side of the battlefield. He would do his duty.

"Commander," a gruff voice called.

The blood elf pulled himself away from the battlement strategy table and approached his Tactical Officer. Standing next to Kilrath was another familiar orc in plate armor. His helm was still scarred from their previous altercation. A solid black eye patch with a crudely drawn red skull was attached to the damaged socket.

"Vice-Commander Dardosh," acknowledged Jean.

"Commander Starstrider," replied Dardosh.

The orc was much humbler this time around but the snarl forming on his massive lips told the blood elf that he had not soon forgotten nor forgiven their encounter the other day. However, this wasn't the time for inter-party bickering. They had a fortress to defend and it would take the combined effort of every member of the Horde to ensure their continued foothold.

"Good to have you back," the Commander began. "We have much to discuss."

They walked together towards the strategy table. Various maps with detailed markings were carefully laid out in an organized fashion. Jean had spent time this morning analyzing their current resources and calculating the best course of action. He took his place on the opposing side of the table to the orcs and began the briefing as usual.

"Have you brought me any updates Officer Kilrath?"

"Not I Commander."

Kilrath turned towards the green-skinned orc. The Vice-Commander handed his superior a thin brown scroll case. The red steel caps that were engraved with the traditional sigil of the Horde. Jean opened it carefully and began reading the documents. There were several pieces of parchment with details, drawings, and other information the Commander had specifically requested.

"This is all of the intelligence we have on the new Alliance Commander?"

"Correct," Dardosh stated.

The Commander was careful not to use Rayne's name. Any subtle changes in tone or expression could giveaway their previous relationship. As far as the Horde was concerned, Jean Starstrider and Rayne Templar had never met.

"The history ends just after a few weeks." Jean raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing on him before he ventured to Northrend."

"We didn't have time to pull anything more," the Vice-Commander growled. "We were only given a few hours' notice."

He couldn't blame them. The Commander had only found out about it last night as well. Even so, there had to be more information on him. What Jean was reading made it seem like Rayne was a completely different person than the one he had shared tea with only a few days prior.

"This doesn't make sense," sighed Jean. "Why would the Alliance put this man in charge of their forces if they are planning to launch a strengthened assault?"

"The Alliance have always had their heads up their asses," Dardosh spat. "Why would this decision surprise any of us?"

"I agree with the Commander," Kilrath replied. "This doesn't sound like a wise decision."

"Templar's as much of a fool as the rest of them," countered Dardosh. "The rumors confirm it. Even some of our own had run-ins with him. They say his flesh is soft but he's got a hard head on him. I wouldn't put any faith in their paltry strategies."

"It says here that Templar had successful sacked Utgarde Pinnacle just two days ago," stated Jean. Every piece of evidence thus far was not adding up as it should. "A fool wouldn't be able to accomplish such a feat."

The Vice-Commander scoffed.

"I heard he brought five-hundred men with him. Give me five-hundred and I could take down the entirety of Icecrown Citadel myself."

The boasts of the Vice-Commander were almost as laughable as the documents in Jean's hands. There was no way the man he met and the man on these pages were one in the same. The way _she_ spoke about him. The way _she_ looked at him. It wasn't adding up. Something was terribly amiss and his blame lied solely on the intelligence in his hands. There was no way this could be happening right now. His beloved sister could give her heart away to such a loser.

Edges of the parchment crunched in the Commander's hand. He had let his emotions take control even for the briefest of moments. Jean pulled himself away from those trifling thoughts and concerned himself with more pressing matters.

"What about the soldiers in the vault? How have they been doing?"

"Not good," Kilrath sulked. "Their efforts have been consistent but the vault guardians have put up a strong resistance. In the last day alone we've pulled out nearly one-hundred men due to critical injury or death. However, I have been told that Overlord Hellscream is planning on sending more reinforcements within the next three days. These men come from his personal company in Warsong Hold. They're highly skilled, experienced, and should make quick work of those guardians."

"So the walls have to stay up until then?"

The pressure was mounting on Jean's shoulders. Overlord Hellscream was indeed serious about claiming the vault's supposed treasures. The burden of the fortress' defense weighed heavier upon his shoulders with every passing moment.

"Why are we even wasting our time in there? Sacrificing the lives of our brothers just for a few measly trinkets? Garrosh has really lost it."

The Commander nodded. He didn't expect to agree with anything Dardosh had to say but even a blind squirrel happens upon the occasional nut.

"Be that as it may we can't afford to lose control of this fortress," Jean replied. "If reinforcements are coming than we can use that knowledge to our advantage. Officer Kilrath?"

"Yes Commander."

"I want you to pull all of the men out of the vault immediately. Feed them. Tend to their wounds. And have them prepared for battle by sunrise tomorrow."

"All seven-hundred?!"

The look of disbelief on the Tactical Officer's face was unbecoming of an orc; especially one with his proud history and stature.

"We don't have a choice. Our priority is to keep these walls standing. If Overlord Hellscream has seen it fit to continue plundering the vaults than he should have no quarrel with me utilizing all of the resources at our disposal to ensure this fortress remains under Horde territory."

Kilrath took a much firmer stance to implore his wisdom on the Commander.

"If the Alliance don't attack before the reinforcements arrive our efforts here will be wasted."

"The results will be the same if we lose this fortress. We cannot afford to take the defense lightly regardless of who's leading the charge. I would rather lose a few days in the vault than watch this base fall."

"The Overlord would not look kindly to an unwise decision Commander," Kilrath commented. "I believe this course of action is a mistake."

"Duly noted Tactical Officer," replied the blood elf.

"This elf's got balls," Dardosh smirked. "I can't wait to see how this fortress fairs under your command."

Dardosh's sarcasm was not subtle in the slightest. In times like these, a good leader knows how to pull favor from a pool of malice.

"Then I will be relying on your strength and knowledge to assist me Vice-Commander," Jean started. "Once all of the soldiers in the vault have rested, I leave them under your command."

The green orc grunted. A surprising look of uncertainty remained on his face.

"You will be responsible for our forward defense. Every area outside of the two workshops and inner walls of the vault entrance are now in your hands."

Jean had offered him a great task. Now all he needed to do was put a little bit of sugar atop it all.

"I trust our troops will be more comfortable with you at the helm Vice-Commander Dardosh. They will respond better knowing you will be in charge. The gates of Wintergrasp Fortress are now under your protection," the Commander saluted. "For the Horde."

"For the Horde," Dardosh saluted in kind though it seemed to have a hint of apprehension behind it.

The Vice-Commader made his way to the vault entrance. Once he was far enough away, Kilrath leaned in and spoke,

"Giving him command of the majority of our troops is quite an honor after what transpired between you two," said the Tactical Officer. "With some of his power returned, it could go to his head. You don't want to a repeat of the previous incident."

"Nonsense," smiled Jean. "I merely gave him enough responsibility to keep him out of my hair. So long as he follows the basic strategy I have outlined, it will be highly unlikely that even a brute like that could falter."

"What are you saying?"

"I never planned on utilizing the soldiers inside the vault. My strategy only concerns the two-hundred we currently have within these walls. It will be more than sufficient to handle any Alliance threat. Dardosh can do what he pleases if it eases his mind. We just need to ensure that the walls are completely restored and our technological defenses are fully operational. There is just one more thing we need to discuss."

The Tactical Officer looked at him inquisitively. Unlike the green-skinned subordinate, he was much more open to direction.

"The success of my strategy is contingent upon one key factor. I'm going to need you to put together ten of your best men; specifically those with experience in stealth and infiltration."

"Sir?" Kilrath Questioned.

Jean separated the parchments. He placed the single page with the crudely drawn image of a blonde human down on the table.

"If the Alliance is banking their entire strategy on this one man then our goal is clear. We just need to eliminate him from the equation. I imagine he'll be stationed at their forward command post or any one of the engineering workshops. Once he is found..."

Jean grabbed a nearby dagger and quickly slammed the short blade into the center of the parchment.

"Kill him."

The Commander walked away from his subordinate. Continuing this conversation would be an exercise in futility. Dardosh has what he wants and the Horde will get what they desire. After this was over, Jean would finally get what he wanted. Rayne would be dead. It would take some time but Lorelei will inevitably get over her sadness. Though it pained him that he must cross arms with a fellow paladin, there was no other way around this. The world was not as grey as everyone hoped it would be.

For the good of his people, for the good of his faction, Jean Starsrider needed to end Rayne Templar's life.

* * *

 _The Silver Enclave_

 _Dalaran_

All of the Alliance members huddled around the table stared at the paladin as if he had just donned the Helm of Damnation. Rayne wasn't expecting a chipper reaction given the plan he had laid out but it seems like even his companions were apprehensive about this proposed course of action.

"Is there something wrong?" Rayne calmly asked forcing a smile.

"Where do I start?" Zanneth groaned.

"It's expensive for one," Ahbramis started. "But the real crunch is time. You can squeeze a gold piece all you'd like but it ain't going to make the day go by any slower. If we're going to pull this off we're going to need some serious manpower."

"I think I can take care of that," replied the paladin. "My men should be arriving this morning to the river near the southern border of Wintergrasp. If you can handle shipping the supplies, I'm sure we can get this done before nightfall."

"And what about this new flippin' piece of technology you plan on implementing?"

The Tactical Officer was not one easily swayed by the awe-inspiring charisma of a young paladin.

"I've got a friend who can help out with that. Between the two of us, I'm sure we can manage."

"This is a big gamble Rayne," Braedin sighed. "We're putting most of our monetary resources into something based on a simple hunch."

They were right. The paladin hadn't slept all night when he came up with this strategy. Most of his efforts were spent reading the battle reports of previous attempts to overtake and seize control of the fortress. Throughout all of their failures, Rayne had found a single consistency with their strategy and he intended to fully exploit it.

"This will work," promised the paladin. "What we need to concentrate on is what to do afterwards."

"That's the part that bugged me," replied Zanneth. "We're spreading our resources too thinly. We only need to take one side of the fortress down to reach the center. Why aren't we concentrating our efforts to the western or southern walls?"

The paladin coolly shook his head.

"We're talking about a fortress that is no wider than a thousand feet. If they see us coming from one side it will be much easier for them to shift their resources towards that end to defend themselves. Our siege vehicles from opposing shops will be forced to travel much further in order to aid in the attacks. Concentrating all of our vehicles on each side equally will force them to divide their resources and put the pressure on them to keep up with the attack. If one side falls they will have to pull more of their resources from other areas leaving them exposed."

"That makes sense," Marcus replied. "But what if they're able to hold us back on all fronts? We're talking about a war of attrition here. The defense always has the advantage."

"Plus they have two workshops of their own," added Zanneth. "It'll be hard enough trying to take those walls down. Even worse when we've got to contend with other siege vehicles."

Braedin nodded.

"Commander Zanneth is right. It's a bold move and the strategy supports it but we're risking too much on an assault on all fronts when there is no guarantee of success."

"That's where _Plan B_ comes in."

Rayne rolled out a large parchment on the table containing a map of the battlefield. Intricate details were written all along the edges with various precise calculations. Every single element was taken into consideration and properly managed.

"You're kidding, right Rayne?" The gnome gulped. "I mean, this is a joke. It has to be. You're a smart guy Rayne. There's no way you'd even consider this. Right? _Right?!_ "

Marcus shook his head.

"I don't like it either Weasel," he began. "But I can't say it wouldn't work. In fact, it may be our only chance at success if all other options have failed. We can't give up a perfectly viable opportunity when it's staring us in the face, can we?"

"We sure as hell can!" The gnome continued to pout. "What part of this is perfectly viable anyways? Has the cold already killed off the last two brain cells you have in that shiny dome of yours?"

"Come on Weasel," the paladin interjected. "I'll be right alongside you the entire time. Don't you trust me?"

The gnome continued to scowl. Rayne always knew exactly what he needed to say to get the gnome to do what was needed. The paladin hadn't steered him wrong yet but even this was asking too much. Still, it was a last resort plan. Maybe they'd be lucky enough to avoid this route altogether.

"Just promise me you'll be gentle," sighed Weasel. "It's my first time."

"Mine too," the paladin grinned. "But I have faith in us."

The morning was moving quickly. Rayne was expecting guests any minute. This was the perfect opportunity to take a break and begin the preparations. There were a few people on his list he needed to speak with in order to ensure his strategy is fully realized.

"Let's reconvene in an hour and get the arrangement started, shall we?"

There were no arguments from anyone else. Ahbramis was the first to leave. He shuffled his little legs out of the room quickly mumbling and cursing under his breath. Zanneth and Marcus were next discussing something about a pre-lunch ale they wanted to share together like the old days with Weasel following closely behind. The only one left in the room was Braedin and he was still peering over the documents Rayne had created throughout the night. If he was able to find a crucial flaw in any of the proposed plans, the paladin was more than willing to take it under advisement.

The sun was always brighter in Dalaran. Its geographical position kept it high above any of the surrounding mountains. Even with its powerful yellow rays beading down on them it didn't make this place any warmer. Rayne hoped his heavy plate armor would absorb some of the heat to keep it from feeling like he was wearing a smooth dress made entirely out of ice. He strolled over towards Krasus Landing with that thought permeating his mind before catching a pair very familiar friends walking down the stairs.

"Lena! Cayden!"

Rayne picked up his pace and allowed the metal plates to slap together without regard. He met them just a few feet away from the Visitor's Center with a bright smile caked upon his expression.

"Glad you could make it."

"So this is Dalaran eh?" Grinned the Captain. "I was expecting something a little more _magical_?"

"What ever do you mean?" Questioned Cayden. "This is the home of the Kirin Tor. One of the previous Seven Kingdoms of the Nations of Arathor. There is more history and magic within these walls than any other place in Azeroth."

"Yea but," Lena began. "Where are all of the dancing lights? The sparkling trees? The glowing spectral horses?"

The mage let out a terrifying groan. There wasn't anything more the Captain could have said to fill his mouth with a dreadful taste.

"How is everyone doing Lena?"

"They certainly had a good time last night on the boss' gold," she winked. "I made sure they weren't too rowdy. We arrived at the requested location just before daybreak. I had them set up camp as per your instructions."

She was in unusually good spirits today. Rayne never took her for being much of a morning person but perhaps they really did enjoy themselves while celebrating their overwhelming victory yesterday. That was one good thought the paladin could keep before getting back down to business.

"How many of them were sent home with injuries?"

Lena turned to the mage and raised an eyebrow before returning her eyes to her oldest friend.

"None of them. All two hundred soldiers are present and accounted for."

"Wait, what?"

Rayne was puzzled. When calculating their manpower last night he made sure to account for all of the injured soldiers he requested return home to tend to their wounds.

"Didn't you report something different yesterday? I could have sworn there were men who would be unfit for combat."

"There were," nodded Lena. "But they all made a quick recovery thanks to Narula. She was a big help in speeding up the healing process. Plus I think a few of the boys wanted to impress her by showing how tough they were brushing off those injuries."

She was right. Rayne had almost forgotten how potent the druid's healing capabilities were. There was no one he trusted more with such a task and the results shouldn't have been surprising. Although, it was a bit odd knowing none of the soldiers accepted a paid vacation.

"And none of them wanted to stay behind? Even after all of their suffering?"

"Are you kidding?" The Captain smirked while driving a punch into the paladin's thick shoulder. "We've been standing around the keep begging for action for months. No amount of training could replace the experience our boys had yesterday. They're hungry for more and after yesterday's victory, morale is at an all-time high. And besides..."

Lena genuinely smiled while trying not to look to sappy in the process.

"We'd follow you to the ends of the earth. There's nothing they wouldn't do for their fearless leader. That goes for me too."

"Thanks Lena." Rayne smirked. "I can't tell you enough –"

A destructive cough blew through the paladin's throat. The Captain's fist found a new home in his unguarded abdomen.

"If you want to kiss something, try my ass after I bring you another victory tomorrow!" She jeered. "Now who's the guy I've got to talk to about this crazy strategy of yours?"

Rayne winced through the lingering pain and pointed his gauntlet towards the large building known as the Silver Enclave.

"Archanist Braedin is waiting for you," he wheezed.

"Perfect," replied Lena as she ran off while waving. "See you later Rayne!"

The paladin coughed a few more times before his body was satisfied with its initial recovery.

"Has she always been that violent?" The mage pondered. "And ignorant for that matter?"

"She's _something_ else," Rayne painfully laughed. "But we've been that way since we were kids so I'm fairly used to it."

"Well it's reassuring to know not all of the women in your life want to jump your proverbial bones."

"Could you please refrain from mentioning that here," shuddered Rayne. "Especially in front of _her_."

"Right, right," Cayden nodded.

"Speaking of which, where is Narula?"

Rayne began peeking over the mage's shoulder but found no one with her radiant beauty throughout the arriving visitors walking by.

"I believe she's still conversing with Muran Fairdren. He was about to depart when we landed but delayed it as they started catching up."

The paladin knew that name well. It was one of Narula's trainers while learning the druidic craft. She spoke highly of his wisdom and skill. Rayne never had the opportunity to meet him personally but from the stories the night elf told, he felt like he's known him for ages.

"She's been up there a while, hasn't she?"

"Yes, I believe they had a lot to discuss what with him being her former lover and all."

"Her _what?!_ "

Exasperated coughs choked out of Rayne's lungs while the smug mage partook in a small chuckle.

"I'm kidding," Cayden grinned. "But it's good to know that even the mighty Rayne Templar has an exploitable weakness."

"I'd be careful crossing that road Cayden," the paladin scowled. "Everyone has someone precious to them that they hold dear. Imagine if _Kaylana_ heard about you bullying your superior."

The mage cringed with a heavy gasp. He knew exactly what Rayne meant with that bold statement. Kaylana was one of his instructors when he first enrolled. She had a nasty way of punishing students for misbehaving. The scars of her punishments still dawdled in his mind and marred his body. Rayne certainly had a way with women and when he needed to, he used it to his advantage.

"I submit," Cayden bowed.

Seeing Rayne smile afterwards was a welcomed treat after that scare.

"Do you think Narula will be much longer?"

"I can't say. But she's not far behind. I can take you right to her."

"I'm afraid I'm a little tied up at the moment," Rayne moped. "I need to go see Findle about a few things. I'm not sure how long it will take but could you do me a favor and give Narula a tour of Dalaran until I get back."

"Of course," Cayden smiled with a slightly pickled brow. "But I do believe overhearing her say she was looking forward to being shown around town with you Rayne."

Another golden opportunity to be with his beloved would have to be delayed for the time being. The paladin still had his duties to perform. Pleasure out have to wait until business had been settled.

"I know but unfortunately we're pressed for time. Please give her my regards and I'll catch up with you guys a little later."

"Count on me boss."

"Thank you," Rayne smiled. He was just about to run off when something else popped into his mind. "Oh, I need you to do me one last favor Cayden."

"Sure thing," the mage nodded. "What do you need?"

"Find Sam and Zari. We're going to need them for the upcoming battle."

"Those two?" Cayden's groans could have woken the dead. "Couldn't we get some of the other Knights? What about Ademski and Saelena?"

"They are _unavailable_ right now," the paladin sighed. "I believe they are assisting with some sort of excavation project in the Storm Peaks. Brann Bronzebeard is leading the charge so I imagine they will be out of contact for quite some time."

No amount of pouting or sulking would free the mage from this responsibility. He nodded signifying his reluctant agreement to the task.

"Thanks again," smiled Rayne. He took off running down the main road towards the Magus Commerce Exchange. The paladin turned his head and waved goodbye to his friend one last time. "And good luck!"

Time continued to pass. There wasn't much of it left. Rayne may very well need to pull another all-nighter if this was going to succeed. He passed the entrance to the Sunreaver's Sanctuary when a sudden jolt of dread coursed through his body. It reminded him of an unpleasant memory he was hoping to soon forget. Things were never that easy. Rayne was inevitably going to confront him sooner than later. That was the only part of his strategy he had not given thought to. The paladin was still holding onto the prayer that it would not come down to that between them. Fate was a cruel mistress indeed.


	20. Chapter 19

_Sunreaver's Sanctuary_

 _Dalaran_

Lorelei carefully placed her slender leg over the window sill and onto the cream colored stone roof. She was taking extra precautions not to make a single sound. A pair of Sunreaver Guardian Mages stood just fifty feet below her position. Not to mention the other guards Jean must have surrounding this building just waiting to catch her in the act.

She swung her other leg over the railing and slowly pushed herself down onto the lower level. The soft breeze of cold air tasted delicious on her skin. The young elf crouched and tiptoed her way across the roof towards the southern side of the plaza. She weaved between each domed rising. There was no telling where her brother's guards were watching. As long as she kept moving through cover they would have anything to find let alone track. This was just one of the many advantages of her training.

The young elf reached the end of the room. Two more guards were stationed at the entrance of the main path to the east. A few short shrubs and bushes grew towards the west near the bank where another group of guards were standing vigilant. The only other option was to head directly south just beside the pastry cart she had run into the other day. Of all the choices available, dropping down south was the only one that wasn't in the direct line of sight of any interested parties.

Dalaran was just starting to get busy at this time. The sun had already climbed over the horizon and began peeking through the massive array of columns in the city. She could jump now but there wasn't enough people in the crowd to completely blend in unnoticed. Staying perched between the domes kept any unwanted eyes off her position for the time being. The young elf had a precious few moments to wait for the most favorable time to continue.

Jean's last words to her continuously played in her mind. She desperately tried to flush them out of her memory but failed at every turn.

 _There is nothing more I can do._

Lorelei knew exactly what he meant. As stubborn as he was there was no way she'd allow him to commit such a horrible atrocity. The vain attempt to comfort her in that moment just masked his true intentions.

 _There is nothing more I can do._

The very whispers of his voice still touched her soul. No one could defeat Jean in combat. She'd watched many try but none of them had even come close to laying a finger on him. He'd been training with a blade ever since he was a child but unlike his fellow soldiers, Jean didn't learn how to swing a blade in the safe confines of a school or training camp. His skills were forged in the wilderness against unrelenting opponents that did not know the meaning of the word yield or surrender.

 _There is nothing more I can do._

The young elf winced upon hearing those words one last time. She knew exactly what the future had in store for both of the men she cared about. Jean was wrong about him. This wasn't a brief infatuation. Her heart reached out to him in ways she had never heard it speak before. The bones in her body chilled when she was in his presence. Just as the light called out to Jean to become a paladin, a deep spiritual force was calling out to Lorelei to continue down this path. The future wasn't written yet. There was still time to change things.

Murmurs of citizens began growing below. The crowd had thickened in the brief time Lorelei had stationed herself on this ledge. This was taking longer than she had hoped. Visitors happily conversed about their simple lives that combined into a constant drone. However, something was rapidly approaching that disturbed the otherwise mindless noise.

Metal slapped together rhythmically along the path. Lorelei steeled her vision and pointed her eyes towards the unique sound. Her heart immutably stopped beating. Blood froze as her skin tingled and tightened across her chest. A golden streak of hair had come running through the crowd. She couldn't forget that face even if harpies had gouged her eyes out.

The rumors were true. He had returned to Dalaran. Lorelei remained frozen on her perch. All of her senses numbed. She didn't expect to react that way when seeing him again. Whether it was due to fear or excitement was a moot point now. Her heart was yearning to reach him to him. She desperately need to speak with him again. They had so much to discuss. The first of which being just how wrong her brother was about the situation. He may lack the resolve to take action but Lorelei didn't. There was something only she could do and she intended to see it through no matter what.

* * *

 _Like Clockwork_

 _Dalaran_

Rayne burst through the door of the engineering shop. He set his gaze upon the tiny gnome hovering over the counter tinkering with another one of his many projects. The rest of the world had faded away in the calm blissful focus of their craft.

"Findle!"

"Rayne?!"

The startled gnome dropped the tiny arclight spanner in his hands. Sparks snapped up from the device he was working on. He flailed around snapping his small arms back and forth hoping to shield his face from the miniscule wrath of the dancing lights. It quickly died down as several thin columns of smoke began to rise.

"Dammit," the gnome whined.

He spit out a few of the outlying sparked bits that landed in his mouth.

"Back to the drawing board I guess." He turned towards the paladin with the foul taste of failure still lingering in his throat. "You know better than to come running in here like a bat outta hell Rayne!"

"Sorry Findle," sighed Rayne. "But I wouldn't have done so unless it was urgent."

Rayne laid out a piece of parchment in front of the gnome. It was an intricate engineering design sheet that looked vaguely familiar.

"I need your help on a new project."

"New?" Findle looked at the design thoroughly from top to bottom with a puzzled stare. "This looks like that automatic assemblyman I designed a while back."

"It is. Sort of," laughed the paladin. "I took your initial designs, made a few modifications, and repurposed them for something even better."

"You don't say," the gnome smiled. "Well look at that. You even fixed the joint flaw that's been bugging me with just a restructured whirring bronze gizmo. And I didn't even think about using inlaid mithril cylinders to reinforce the limbs. Man, where were you six months ago? I could have made a killing –"

"Do you still have all of the scrap parts with whatever was leftover?"

Findle nodded without taking his eyes off the plans.

"The two dozen prototypes are still in the back all boxed up. I was hoping to get back to that project one day but now," he grinned. "Now it looks like I'll be in the black again!"

"I'll buy them from you!" Rayne interrupted. "I need them. All of them. And if you have the parts to make the rest of the schematics on the side I'll need those as well."

"Yeesh Rayne." Findle pulled away from the parchment and slowly shook his head. "We're friends and all but this stuff is going to be expensive. Even with my friends and family discount we're still looking at tens of thousands of gold pieces. I know you're good for it but even that would put a dent in the Templar fortune."

"Thankfully it's not my copper we'll be spending," smiled the paladin. "Archanist Braedin and the Valiance Expedition will be will be assuming the costs for this project."

"Really?!" The gnome's grin turned wicked. "Well screw the discount then. This is business after all."

"I thought you'd say that," Rayne chuckled. "Now that you're in a good mood. I have another request. I need this project expedited."

Findle's chipper expression quickly turned sour. He absolutely hated that word. You can never rush perfection. A delayed invention is eventually a good one but a rushed invention is bad forever.

"How soon?"

"Tonight."

"Gah!" Cried the gnome. "It can never be easy with you, can it?"

"I'm sorry Findle but I'm desperate," pleaded the paladin. "You're the only one I know and trust that can pull this off in time."

"Gosh Rayne, I don't know. Even with Timofey and Brian's help I don't think I could pull it off in just a few hours."

"I can assist you later tonight as well," Rayne replied. "If you get all of the parts completed we can assemble them at camp together. It's near the northwestern river above Dragonblight."

"Camp?" Findle raised an eyebrow. "Just what have you gotten yourself into with the Valiance Expedition all of the sudden? I never took you for a guy to just fall in line and march alongside the Alliance. Not that that's a bad thing either."

"It's a long story."

Rayne forced a smile. Truth be told, he was unsure about it himself. Where he was going in life and the direction he wanted to travel was all a blur. Finding one's purpose in life came easier to some than others. The paladin wasn't sure what he _wanted_ to do. He just knew that whatever it was, he wanted to be something _good_.

"Well just be careful pal. You'll never see me getting caught up in the front lines but I won't question anyone else's choice to throw their body into the fray," Findle pulled himself away from the table and gave his friend a genuinely sincere look. "Just promise me you won't get crazy out there. I'd hate to lose my only friend in this dump."

The paladin smiled.

"I will Findle."

Suddenly Rayne was overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia. There was one more piece to the puzzle he had almost forgotten about entirely.

"What about the bike?" Rayne asked. "Were you able to finish the repairs on that?"

"Your chopper?" The gnome began laughing. "Of course I did. There were just a couple of sprockets out of place. I was able to put the whole thing together in just an hour. After I looked into it, it seems like there were a few cobalt bolts that weren't tightened properly which caused the whole thing to fall apart. I can't believe you missed something so simple. It was almost as if you were sabotaging yourself."

"Really?" The paladin replied while looking away slightly. Findle was a bit sharper than most despite his love for coins. "I just think it was an honest mistake."

"Yea, yea, well she's all tuned up and ready to go in the back. Do you want me to ship it with the rest of the stuff?"

"If you could, I'd appreciate it. I'll need to make a few modifications as well."

"Modifications?" The gnome grinned. "I'm not sure I should let you handle any kind of tinkering on a sweet ride like that. Maybe if we get done early enough I'll stick around and lend my ingenuity."

The paladin laughed.

"I appreciate it Findle. Thanks –"

The door gently creaked as it slowly swung open. Rayne and Findle both turned their attention towards the entrance. A lone blood elf stood in the doorway. Her long blond hair shimmered and hung just over her shoulders. Delicate green eyes stared back at the paladin. A smile formed between her petite pink lips.

"Rayne."

"Lorelei?!"

The paladin burst forward and pulled the young elf into the room. He peeked around every corner searching for any other watchers who had set their gaze upon this building. After a quick handful of seconds he slammed the door shut.

"Findle, can you lock it?!"

"Of course," the gnome replied seemingly confused by his friend's agitated nature.

Findle tapped a button under the table. A pair of harmonious clicks echoed into the empty hallway. He made sure to reinforce the doors with titansteel locks. There was no way anyone would be getting in here without a siege engine under their ass. Or if they just pushed the exit button on the inside.

"Thanks Findle," the paladin sighed. His initial trepidation was subsiding but a whole slew of fears came pouring in the door along with the young elf.

"What's going on Rayne?" Inquired Findle. He had never seen his friend so shaken up before.

"I can explain later," pleaded the paladin. "But for now, could you give us some –"

"Say no more," the gnome smiled. "I've got some work to do anyways. Some genius just gave me three days of work to complete by tonight. I better get started before I fall behind."

The gnome shut the door behind him as he descended down into the workshop. It was loud and cold down there. Findle will have plenty to keep him busy while Rayne sorts out this jumbled mess that fell into his lap.

"My apologies Lorelei," he began. "I didn't mean to startle you. I was just –"

"It's okay," the young elf replied. "I should be the one apologizing. I just…"

Lorelei's words trailed as she could not stare at the paladin directly. Her resolve quickly steeled itself. She stared back at him with renewed confidence and a hint of shyness still plaguing her eyes.

"I just wanted to see you."

The innocent look of the young elf pierced directly though Rayne's heart. It started beating in a way he hadn't felt in ages. However, his wavering emotions were not on trial here.

"Is there something wrong? I didn't think we'd be seeing each other again so soon."

The young elf shook her head.

"Me neither. I came to Dalaran a couple of days ago and –"

Her voice broke. The delighted demeanor faded instantaneously as her eyes sulked to the ground. When they arose, fear had overcome the glowing green irises. Her breathing became erratic. Words stuttered through her thin lips.

"There is something I have to tell you. It's about Jean. He knows –"

"Calm down Lorelei," Rayne beseeched. He placed his hands carefully on her shoulders and gave her a gentle look. "What's going on with your brother?"

"He's at Wintergrasp!" She desperately cried. "He's leading the Horde forces there. They've been preparing for days. And," the young elf's words broke once more. She struggled to get the last part out. "And he knows you're coming."

The paladin slowly released her from his grip. He turned his head away in ignominy. This wasn't a new discovery. Lorelei quickly realized that as well. Her somber tone lifted as tinges of rage began searing through

"You knew? Didn't you?"

"I'm sorry," the paladin replied. "I had no idea when I originally accepted this assignment. I only heard about it last night."

"And," she cringed. The words poured through her teeth as she continued. "You're still going, aren't you?"

Rayne continued to look away. He couldn't bear to give her a response because he knew no matter what he said, it would crush her.

"You can't!" She snapped. The young elf's please shifted from anger to desperation. "Please, you don't know Jean like I do. There is no one on this planet better with a sword than he is. I've never seen him lose. No one has ever laid a scratch on him."

The young elf paused to catch herself sniveling. Such a sight would be unbecoming of a noble elf but she didn't care. She had to warn him.

"You can't go. You can't, because…"

Tears pooled in her eyes. Her despairing words continued.

"He will beat you. And he _will_ kill you."

Rayne pulled back and took a deep breath. He had no reason not to believe Lorelei. Never before has someone come up to him with such sincerity. She poured her heart out and may face possible persecution for treason just to warn him of what's to come. Sadly the paladin still had his duty to uphold. He promised to lead the Alliance forces to victory. Even if his own motivations were still lacking a solid foundation, he still appreciated any advice one could offer regardless of age or wisdom.

"What would you have me do Lorelei?"

The young elf was quiet. Her head sulked down. Golden locks of hair slumped over her puffy face. Time grinded to a screeching halt. The paladin could feel his heart thumping underneath his armor waiting for her answer.

"Run away."

The words came out barely above a whisper. Rayne sighed and slowly turned around with his back facing the young elf. Her solution was a product of her experience. She was still young and had many things to experience in this world.

"Lorelei, I couldn't –"

"With me."

Lightning struck the paladin's chest. His blood began to tingle with warmth he had never experienced before in his life. Never has anyone touched his soul in such a passionate manner with mere words. His mind froze with the hundreds of thoughts swimming through his head. Rayne couldn't even begin to fathom how to respond to that. His mind and his heart were speaking on different sides of the same coin.

"I –"

Lorelei rushed in and wrapped her arms across his chest. She squeezed tightly pressing her body against his back. This nostalgic feeling reminded the paladin of their long journey together through Quel'Thalas.

"Please don't go. I can't watch you fight him. We don't have to follow the paths laid out for us anymore. I don't care where we go or where we end up," she sobbed pouring tears into each smooth steel plate of his armor. "As long as we're together, as long as I have you with me… I'll –"

Rayne gently caressed the soft thin hands upon his chest. He carefully wrapped his fingers atop of hers. Her passion pierced the armored gauntlets. The paladin took a deep breath and carefully lifted them from his body. He turned around to face the weeping elf. She was so small and delicate and yet, Lorelei had the courage to say those words to him without hesitation. Truly she would surely become become a fine woman one day.

"I'm sorry."

Thunder clashed in his mind. He saw the somber look of hope from the young elf's face drop in an instant. She came in here hoping against hope that her words could possibly change the paladin's mind. The scary part was, she came closer than she would have ever dreamed.

"Why?" She continued to wince. "Why can't you? Why can't we –"

Rayne took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. There wasn't much he could say to alleviate her sorrow. At the very least, he would try to quell the monster raging within her precious thoughts.

"This is something I must do. There are a lot of people who look up to me. A lot of them depend upon me. I have a responsibility to them to see this through. So," he slowly leaned in and pressed his lips just above her ear. "I can't abandon them. Just like I couldn't abandon you."

The paladin gradually released Lorelei from his arms. She continued to sob. Her blonde hair shielded her saddened face from its humiliating look.

"What about you?" She asked. Her voice no longer whimpered. It was full of resolve and renewed passion. "What do you want?"

Rayne eyes shook. No one had ever asked him that before. Throughout his life there were things he wanted to see, places he wanted to visit and experiences he had to try. However, those were all things that came from his own desires. Whenever he wanted something, he just went after it without question as if it were instinctual. Never before has he actually had to sit and ponder the weight of such a simple question when asked by someone who seemed to be more invested in his life than their own.

Time was passing quickly. The longer he stood without responded the closer he got to letting his emotions take over and say something he may surely regret. Rayne took another deep breath. He meditated on what had transpired and the answer Lorelei was looking for. It slowly began to take shape in his mind. Warmth flooded through as the visage gradually took shape. There was indeed something he wanted. Unfortunately, it wasn't in this room.

"My wants are _irrelevant_ ," the paladin frowned, "when there are responsibilities I must fulfill."

One of those words must have sparked another wild flame of anger to rise. The young elf looked at him with compassion and slowly brewing contempt.

"I'm not going to stand by and just watch you two try and kill each other. Didn't you say that we needed to create a new world where fighting like this didn't happen? And now you're –"

"I know, he sighed, "And I don't like it either. But perhaps I can make a change. Sometimes words are not enough to reach out to everyone. You need to channel your feelings and pour your sincerity through your actions. If done properly it can be a devastating force to contend with and touch people in places that our language cannot express."

The paladin leaned in closely. He could almost feel the warmth of her breath caressing his skin.

"You taught me that today."

Lorelei's anger melted. Her face broke as another pair of tears slid down the soft hills of her cheeks. She lunged forward and wrapped the paladin in a tight hug. Her face pressed against his chest snugged tightly underneath his chin. The cool steel of his breastplate absorbed her warmth pouring through.

"What are my actions telling you now?"

The paladin could sense everything she wanted to tell him and more. Her feelings penetrated effortlessly bypassing the thick steel plates and touched his heart in a way he had yet to experience. For someone so young, she was a quick learner and carried a bold wisdom that will serve her well in the future.

"Many things," smiled Rayne. It took some added resilience but he refrained from returning her embrace though a part of him still willed for it. "But that is a discussion for another day."

"What if we can't have that discussion?"

Her sobs continued to pour into his chest.

"I don't want to watch you die."

The young elf didn't appear to be convinced. Rayne carefully placed his hands around her shoulders. His reassuring presence flow through the very tips of his gauntlets. Though he was not certain what would happen tomorrow, he couldn't allow her adoration to be in vain. She had sacrificed nearly her entire well-being just coming here to warn him. The paladin was not about to let it all be in vain.

"I promise you that I will not bring you any sorrow. Just as your heart has touched mine, I will do whatever is in my power to ensure of it."

Lorelei clutched the paladin even tighter.

"I'm going to hold you to that."

Rayne released the young elf from his grip. Another challenge was added to the already weakening odds of their mission. Keeping his word may very well prove impossible but the paladin did not waver. It was their inherent duty to become a model for all citizens to look up to and strive towards; even if it meant his life had more challenges than the rest.

Enough time had passed. The paladin was already pressed for every minute he could grasp. There were still many things left to do. His attention was needed elsewhere.

"I'm sorry Lorelei," he began. "I have to go."

It took her a few moments to release him from her tight grip. She lingered on his touch as they separated. Her glowing green eyes stared up at him. Though they contained sorrow throughout the edges, Rayne noticed that deep within the wells of her hidden irises grew a look of hope.

"Please be careful."

"I will," smiled the paladin. "Take care –"

The young elf's tender hands clasped upon his cheeks. Rayne froze instantly. Her warm breath puffed against his chest. Slowly her head lifted upwards towards his. The paladin's heartbeat hummed rapidly. His blood burned through his skin as her small pink lips ascended towards his face.

"Anar'alah anu dela'na."

The whisper sent shivers down his spine. She pulled away from him slowly. Confidence returned to her expression as she stared back at him with a glowing smile.

Rayne couldn't move. He desperately tried to control his breathing but with the surprise influx of emotions pouring through his mind, it was easier said than done. With limited options available, the paladin simply nodded and quickly made his escape out the door.

"Rayne wait –"

The paladin ignored her pleas. Any more time spent in there would be too much for his heart to handle. It was constantly conflicting with his mind about the best course of action. All other logical choices appeared to be clouded that no amount of focus could wade through.

The crowd was growing quickly outside of the Magus Commerce Exchange. Rayne barreled through the mass of people. His mind was still hazy trying to drive out the wave of thoughts recently taking residence. Never has anything stirred it so thoroughly and made him forget the hundreds of things that had once heavily weighed upon it. It also blinded his movements forcing him to carelessly bump into a passerby.

The impact nudged against the paladin's shoulder. It wasn't a painful hit but startled him nonetheless. His brain finally came into focus. The first thing it reminded him to do was issue a formal apology.

"I'm sorry," he said while turning his gaze towards the unfortunate target. "Please forgive –"

Rayne's mind immediately sent down bolts of furious shock. Standing before him was the beloved night elf for whom his heart had constantly cried out to. The nerves in his skin tensed. Narula stared back at him slightly puzzled. Her lips prepared to open.

Guilt began to trickle down his face. The paladin's eyes wandered just beyond her and opened wide. Lorelei appeared from within the crowd as she walked out of the Magus Commerce Exchange. She appeared to be scouting around looking for something. Rayne knew exactly what is was and did not want to be anywhere near the night elf when she found it.

The paladin burst forward without even a second glance back. He hightailed it towards the Silver Enclave. There was plenty of work to bury himself in. He would have to sort out this misunderstanding and feelings at another time. In the entirety of Rayne's young life, he had never once desired being away from Narula for even a second until today.

Whatever feelings were building in his heart were quickly affecting the world he thought he knew. He promised himself to speak with Narula first but for some reason, it wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to. At least there was plenty of work that still needed to be done. Anything to get his mind off the two elves vying for his heart's attention was greatly appreciated.

* * *

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

 _Wintergrasp_

Dusk settled on the horizon. Jean carefully studied the stack of battlefield maps on the table. He had marked them with several lines depicting several strategy scenarios. Every little detail was carefully outlined and accounted for. Unless Rayne Templar was going to come at him with the entire might of the Alliance military, this fortress would not fall so long as Jean had breath in his lungs.

"Sir!"

The Commander turned around. Kilrath and Dardosh stood before him along with the other two unique souls ordered to guard their most precious resource.

"What is the status Vice-Commander?"

"The soldiers have been resting for several hours," the orc grunted. "We have tended to the wounded. Our entire force of seven-hundred will be ready to go at sunrise."

"Very good," the blood elf nodded. "And what of the outer walls? Have they finished constructing the defenses?"

"Yes Commander," nodded Kilrath. "The goblins have outfitted each wall with several rocket launchers. They estimate that it will take between three to ten explosives to fully disable the enemies' siege vehicles."

"That's impressive," Jean replied.

His original calculations had concluded that it would take much more to slow them down. This may call for a few readjustments to a few selective strategies.

"However," the mag'har orc interjected. "In order to get maximum radial threat from the turrets, they had to carve out thicker sections of the wall."

"So we're compromising our structural integrity to throw the occasional stick of dynamite?"

"We won't need their toys. My troops will overrun any measly threat the Alliance throws at us," Dardosh scoffed. His stain teeth grew larger as he grinned. "I just hope you're not too bored hiding behind all of these walls Commander."

Jean paid him no mind. The continued boasts of the Vice-Commander were nothing to be concerned with. It wouldn't be his head on the line should they lose their foothold here.

"I look forward to your impending victory Vice-Commander," he retorted. "But remember, _you_ may be in charge of the men but they better follow _my_ strategy. I did not waste my time idly drawing lines on maps only to watch you make a mockery of yourselves on the field."

The insulting statement appeared to hit the orc hard. His teeth clenched as blood rose within the walls of his one good eye. The Vice-Commander hardly forgot the scar given to him by his superior. Even when things seem amicable enough to work without incident, the orc obviously continued to hold a grudge. Jean wasn't threatened because after all of this huffing and puffing, the orc knew his place.

"As you will, _Commander_."

Dardosh stormed off towards the front gates. The Commander did not take his eyes off him until the orc was completely out of sight. There was no room for insubordination here. After this mission was completed Jean planned on having a long talk with his superiors. Knowing them, their blades would be doing most of the talking. He welcomed the challenge.

"Shall I teach him some respect on your behalf?"

The echoing threat coming from Delsatan was anything but mere words. He knew this hulking beast could give the orc a run for his money. However, inter-faction conflict was out of the question. It was nice to know that there were some troops within these walls that knew a thing or two about loyalty.

"Pay him no mind," Jean waved. "His strength is required to defend these walls. Your strength," he said while giving the tauren a knowing nod. "Is needed for a greater purpose. Our entire livelihood relies on those workshops continuing to funnel siege vehicles onto the battlefield. If they should fall, then defeat will come soon with it."

"I will see to the Alliance dogs," nodded Lightninghide. He pounded his mace on the ground signifying the strength of his words. "Their meager arms or vehicles will not pose a threat. I stake my life on that Commander."

"For the Horde," replied the superior.

"For the Horde."

Delsatan saluted and returned to his post. There was a lot to like about the tauren regardless of his past mistakes. The death knight will be a formidable foe against any oncoming invaders. They were especially adept at handling multiple opponents all at once which would prove vital to defend such a key infrastructure. Kilrath had chosen wisely.

"A bit zealous, isn't he?" Snickered the forsaken.

"Faith, when put in the right hands, can move mountains even with a gentle graze," Jean stated. "You two share a common history give your status. Does that not inspire your to achieve something greater knowing you have a second chance when many have not received the same privilege?"

"Not at all," Ulrick wheezed. "We may have died once before but our loyalty has always lied with the Dark Lady. Never were we _his_ playthings."

The haunting tone of his scratching voice was tolerable only if he talked in one word sentences. Jean was not that fortunate. Cursesong had a unique outlook on their respective situations. While he would much rather have him fall in line like Delsatan, something told the Commander that this particular soldier was not satisfied with simple guard duty.

"Is there something you need?"

"Something to report actually, Commander," grinned the forsaken. "I have detected a unique presence towards the eastern mountains. It seems our uninvited guests may be stopping by shortly."

"Detected?" Leered Jean. "Our lookouts have been working tirelessly to retrieve some updated information. Are you telling me that you directly disobeyed my orders by leaving the perimeter to do some mere scouting?"

"Perish the thought Commander," Ulrick replied.

If his voice was any throatier it would almost sound condescending. He lifted up his hood revealing the pale and scarred face underneath. His hideous looks notwithstanding, something was amiss even for this forsaken. One of his eyes was not rotting away like the other. It had a green glow that shined brighter with every breath taken.

"I have been afforded some unique abilities in my training," he winked with less impressive eye. "There appear to be griffon droppings near the eastern mountain ridge. No doubt the Alliance have already staked their claim in that area."

Jean was intrigued. Warlocks had some incredible powers hidden underneath their robes. If it wasn't for their unholy lust for power and indomitable greed they would make a fine companion on any journey.

"Is that all?" Posed the Commander. "Surely there is something more to verify your hypothesis."

"Perhaps," Cursesong grinned. "I believe I am detecting some movement close by. There is a small forest atop the hills. Let me see if I can – wait," the forsaken paused and squinted further. "What is that?"

"Perhaps an Alliance banner?"

The Commander became increasingly invested in his subordinate's ability. The look of sheer wonder on Cursesong's face was oddly strange yet fitting in some ways. Even the Butcher of Telredor could be surprised once and a while.

"No, something is impeding my vision," Ulrick cursed.

His usual ominous and wily demeanor had been blemished by an increasing amount of rage bubbling within.

"It's fuzzy but I think its two dirt rocks pressed together. For some reason my eye can't get around – GAH!"

The forsaken howled violently as he dropped to his knees. He desperately clutched his eye almost as if he were forcing it back into the socket. Desperate breaths quickly burst forward mixed with ferocious chants.

"My eye… My eye!"

Warlock's abilities, though powerful and cunning, always did have a few key drawbacks. Jean called for his local medic team to tend to the wounded soldier. He was relying heavily on Cursesong's strength and reputation to ensure their workshops continued to operate during the inevitable battle.

As they carted off the forsaken toward, the Commander let his gaze linger towards the south. Rayne Templar would soon be coming for him. Their budding friendship meant nothing as soon as the drums of war began to chant. His final thoughts lingered upon the words he had told his beloved sister before they departed to Northrend.

 _If fate is kind, you will never see him again_.

Jean never thought his own words would be used against him. If Kilrath's men were able to accomplish their specific task than he may perhaps look at fate in a new light. It wasn't like a paladin to bring up arms against each other. Then again, it wasn't like a blood elf to fall in love with a human either.


	21. Chapter 20

_Eastspark Vehicle Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp_

Small campfires illuminated the otherwise desolate frozen lake. Rayne stood between two patches directing traffic for the rest of his troops as they hauled in giant parts from the nearby supply ship.

"All metal parts to the workshop. All wooden parts just up north. Wait for Marcus and he'll escort you to your destination," directed Rayne.

Upon arriving at this blue beach, the Templar soldiers were greeted by their superiors. Each of the Knights carefully chosen by Rayne himself combined their skills and abilities with the sheer numbers provided by the paladin's personal regiment. Samuel and Zariyana utilized the unique priest ability to lighten the loads of each massive siege part so the soldiers could save some of their strength. Cayden provided portals between each workshop to quickly deliver products exactly where they needed to be with little exposure to the open and potentially prying eyes of their enemies. Narula was scouting over in the western side of the area. Her attunement to nature gives her a distinct advantage over some of her comrades. With just a whisper she could communicate with the plants underneath the snow and find any unwanted parties in the area.

The only one left was Weasel. Rayne had sent him out nearly an hour ago and he hasn't come back to report yet. The night was just seeping in and he still needed time to work on one final tinker before the battle began. It was a vital step in his overall plan and without it, they would be highly encumbered throughout the attack.

"Hey Rayne!"

The squeaky voice coming from below caught the paladin's attention, just not his eyes. He was still commanding the troops ensuring they were headed in the right direction. The line led up to a wide gap that stopped everyone to a slow halt.

"Com'on guys, keep moving –"

"Hey!" Shouted the voice from below.

"Findle!"

Rayne knelt down to meet his engineering mentor. The sour look on the gnome's face would take more than just an apology to sweeten up.

"What's the big idea?" Findle whined. "I came all the way out here to this snowy wasteland to offer my genius and assistance and you're brushing me aside because I'm a little vertically challenged?!"

"You know it's not like that Findle," Rayne chuckled. "But I do apologize."

"Eh, don't worry about it," the gnome waved. "Still, I've never seen you so focused without an arclight spanner in your hands. Things have gotten pretty intense, haven't they?"

The paladin nodded.

"I really appreciate you coming all the way out here to help us. We truly couldn't have done this without you."

"Stop kissing my lug nuts kid," blushed Findle. "You had me at _here's your gold_. Now, where do I set up shop?"

"The engineering workshop just up the path," Rayne pointed while standing back up. "Marcus will show you the way."

"Great, I've got a lot of stuff to do and not a lot of time to do it."

"I'll be there in a little while to help as well," the paladin replied. "I've also got a new tinker I'm going to need your nimble fingers to assist with."

The gnome raised an eyebrow.

"It's not any more of those tiny rockets, is it?"

"No, no," The paladin laughed. "It's nothing like that. Just a little something to help me control the flow of battle."

"Sounds expensive," Findle said while scratching his chin. "Do you have all the parts ready?"

"Of course," Rayne smiled. "I've been working on this one for a while. I just need to splice a few wires and solder some diodes. Shouldn't be more than an hour of your time at most."

"Well, let's see how far we come with these _other little tinkers_ you have me working on," the gnome sighed. "Come on boys. Let's get to it!"

Findle marched across the snowy trail with his two assistants following close by. They carted up a few crates of various engineering wares. The night was still young but they had plenty of work left to finish before they could launch their attack on the fortress. A lot of time and money were being spent on this operation. The paladin had to be careful not to waste either.

"Yo boss."

Rayne lowered his eyes and caught the familiar grin of the stealthy gnome under his employ staring back at him.

"Weasel!" Rayne shouted. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for your scouting report."

"Yeesh," sighed the gnome. "I would have come back earlier but I was dealing with a little problem."

Rayne was interested. It wasn't in Weasel's nature to be lazy or late. Something must have happened that required further investigation.

"What did you see?"

"The enemy's trying to scout our location. I caught one of those freaky green fel eyes floating around the eastern mountains where Zanneth and the others are going to be posted."

"Really?" The paladin pondered.

If they had a warlock in their midst it would prove difficult to assault them head on. Fel magic was wily and unpredictable. Anyone that summons demons to do their bidding was not someone Rayne trusted to join his team. Jean must have planned for every contingency if he's got one of those aiding his defense. Or he was merely getting desperate.

"Do you know if they spotted anything?"

"Not much," Weasel replied while casually picking his teeth. "Just a full moon."

The paladin raised an eyebrow. He looked up to the sky and noticed only a half moon lurking above. It took him a moment to realize what the gnome had meant by that statement. The image instantly materialized before his mind could stop it in time.

"By the light," Rayne groaned. "Must you taunt them like that?"

"Meh, I figured they deserved it," shrugged the gnome. "They weren't being very conspicuous about it either. It's like they're not taking us seriously. Looks like your plan is working boss."

The news was inspiring. If their forces had taken the rumors about the Templar Knights seriously than it would put them at an extreme advantage. The only variable in the equation was Jean. They may have met only once but even he may have trouble believing anything he has heard about the Knight's follies on Northrend. It could be that they have a couple of loose cannons in their midst that aren't as sharp as the other knives in the drawer. Or it simply could mean that he wasn't worried about the attack in the slightest and was merely taunting Rayne to act.

Weasel's new intelligence was both a benefit and detriment. It gave them a little insight on the enemy at the added cost of revealing their presence in the area. Rayne wasn't expecting to pull off a complete surprise attack but it would have been nice if the option was still available.

"Thanks Weasel," Rayne began. "Findle's in the workshop. We're going to need your _specific_ engineering expertise to aid in the demolisher construction."

"Roger that," the gnome replied with a growing grin. "I've got just what he needs to spark his imagination."

Weasel took off north without a second's hestiation. Rayne continued to guiding the rest of the troops into the encampment. Thankfully, their work was almost completed. They would need all of the rest they could get for the attack tomorrow. The paladin wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight but with the lives of hundreds as well as his closest companions at stake, it was a worthy sacrifice.

* * *

 _Sunreaver's Sanctuary_

 _Dalaran_

"Stop her - !" Cried the guard before getting pounced by the full weight of Emerald's tackle.

The tiger drove the elven soldier to his back and slammed all four paws into his armored hide. The beast quickly fled forward through the open alcoves as instructed with his master following closely behind.

Another pair of guards were just outside the main road. The young elf tucked the hood over her head and continued running at full steam. She knew exactly what she needed to do and was determined to see it through to the end.

"Left Emerald!"

The guards crossed their halberds as they approached. The tiger burst forward driving its full weight into the guard's kneecap. He collapsed on the ground shrieking about his newly dislocated appendage. The second raised his weapon preparing to impale the foul creature. A pair of boots landed abruptly on his collar driving his attention away. Lorelei crouched against the resonating impact of her jump while clutching against the guard's helm to keep her balance. She twisted her body sending the guard reeling in the direction of her choice with his back against the nearby wall. The young elf kicked back with both legs and drove his armored frame into the unforgiving structure behind him. His helm left a resounding ringing into the night's air as consciousness was brutally stolen from him.

"Let's go!" She ordered.

Only two guards were left at the path's exit. They were responsible for ensuring no Alliance members were allowed to enter their sanctuary. Admittedly they were amongst the toughest of the lot. However, Lorelei did not risk her life and status just to back down in the face of a challenge. Her heart had been crying out clamoring for the attention she truly desired. There was no way her journey was going to end here.

Emerald leapt into the air veering left near the wall. The guard had anticipated this attack and planted his halberd into the ground. The finely sharpened blade awaiting the soft intestines of the green beast as it rapidly approached.

"Now!"

The tiger kicked off the wall and continued to soar towards the unsuspecting right guard. Lorelei dashed underneath and delivered a devastating sweeping kick to the back of the left's unarmored knee. Her body followed through with the spin as she drew the bow slung on her back. The blunt edge near the handle caught the throat of the fallen guard. Air was ripped from his body. He wheezed against the blow begging for more of it to enter his lungs.

"Emerald!"

Lorelei called to her pet as she blitzed down the main road. The tiger pushed off the fallen guard that unfortunately took the brunt of his half-ton weight and followed his master. They raced east through the empty streets. Small lights illuminated the path from both sides. The young elf's boots meticulously slapped against the paved road in quick succession.

The only way out of town was either by flight master at Krasus' Landing or the Violet Gate that will teleport the user down below to the Violet Stand. The flight master was the ideal choice that would take her right where she needed to go.

"There she is!" Called a guard from the Sanctuary entrance. "Stop her!"

There was no time to lose. Taking the flight master would several impeded her progress. She needed to lose these guys fast.

"Com'on Emerald!"

Lorelei charged up the staircase. Tall blue windows decorated with images of books, trees, and the sun were wonderfully crafted into the panes. A floating triangular crystal hung in the center of the circular shaped room. The young elf tugged on the tuft of her pet's hair as she gave the magical device a mighty slap.

A trickle of white energy quickly enveloped her entire body. The world around her started to fade. Gravity no longer clung to her. She slowly lifted into the air. Sounds of charging footsteps in the distance faded. The majestic city of Dalaran disappeared before her very eyes. Everything became washed in a sea of purple. Lorelei's toes slowly descended onto solid ground. The blurry landscape quickly became clear. A large purple barrier surrounded the immediate area. It paled in comparison to the massive ruins around the perimeter. Two tall columns abruptly stood out against the damaged and decaying architecture. Monsters roamed the lands to the south and east of this position.

The young elf quickly retrieved the map she had stolen from the command room. She had carefully marked the path just in case she found herself in a precarious position. The quickest path to Wintergrasp was through the western hills along the border of Dragonblight. She tucked the map back into her cloak and made a break for the mountains. With her bow still in hand, Lorelei nocked and fired off several arrows to the north towards the Ironwall Dam. If her pursuers happened upon this place, they will most likely believe she had ventured towards Icecrown instead of her true destination.

Snow packed the steep mountains. Thankfully the young elf came prepared. She retrieved a pair of climbing hooks and started her ascent. It was quite the distance to the top of the ridge; even more so with the distance she had to pass to get to Wintergrasp on foot. She'd be lucky to reach the fortress by daybreak. Despite the looming look of despair staring down upon her, Lorelei did not falter. All of the decisions in her life had been made by others or needed their approval. This was the first time she truly chased something that only she held dear. Nothing was going to stop her now.

* * *

 _Eastspark Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp_

Rayne sat under the leafless tree carefully twisting the arclight spanner. He screwed in the final bolt that locked the metal housing frame in place. Thanks to the zoom feature on his goggles he was able to ensure precise adjustments. Accuracy was crucial when you're working with something this tiny. Findle did most of the hard work thanks to his genetically endowed hand size. The only thing left for the paladin to do was secure all of the tiny wiring within the protective metal plates.

They were only able to finish and test four of them but it was just the amount they needed to make this work. Findle promised to make more of these the second they got back to the shop. He was already talking about how they were going to revolutionize battlefield combat as they knew it. Best of all, he had already given it a name: the Communication Headset with Automatic Transmission. With this device strapped to your ear, you could freely speak with any other device on the battlefield from miles away. This would allow Rayne to update his strategic command from the four key points in Wintergrasp; the engineering workshops.

The moon was high overhead. Midnight leered back at Rayne. After finishing two more of these tinkers he needed to go back in the workshop and begin installing the units on each siege vehicle. Unfortunately, that's an area where his engineering mentor was physically lacking.

"Raymond," called the soft voice. "What are you doing up here?"

The paladin's attention quickly darted from his engineering device to the beautiful night elf standing before him. He was so engrossed with his work that he didn't even hear her footsteps trotting along the thick snow.

"Oh, hey Narula," smiled the paladin. He lifted the goggles from his eyes to get a much more pure look at the violet haired elf. It didn't matter how much snow or ice surrounded him. Her very presence always warmed his heart.

"It was getting a little stuffy inside of the workshop. I thought I'd come out here for some fresh air and finish up in peace."

"Does that mean I'm bothering you?" The night elf coyly asked.

"Not at all!" Rayne quickly replied. "You never bother me Narula. I just -"

Her tender laugh ceased the paladin's defense. She knew exactly what she was doing. Rayne had to keep his guard up despite his heart clamoring for the exact opposite.

The night elf took a seat just inches away from him and gently pressed her back against the tree. Her slender hands wrapped around her knees and held her delicate head. Long strands of her shimmering hair spread in an organized mess over her armor. It was like staring at her as if she was lying in bed; a sight in which the paladin had only dreamed of seeing.

"Is everything alright?" Narula posed.

"Yes," nodded Rayne.

He immediately felt regret stabbing his mind. The absolute last person he wanted to close himself off from was Narula.

"Well, no. I mean," he continued to stumble over every word. "I don't know anymore."

"You seemed troubled. Even earlier today when we –"

"About that," Rayne cut in.

He put down his tools and gave the night elf a sincere look.

"I'm sorry. I should have apologized earlier. It was terribly rude of me. I shouldn't have treated you that way. You, of all people, deserve better than that."

"Raymond," Narula said with a small giggle. "When did you get so formal with me? You have not been that way since we were children."

The paladin hadn't even noticed he had slipped into his old habits of overdoing speeches including apologies. It was a trait taught to him by his father and many of their trusted staff and acquaintances. He always said the main difference between a noble and commoner was the size of their tongue.

"I'm sorry," sighed Rayne. "It's just, there's a lot of things going on right now. Trying to wrap my head around all of them is proving to be quite the encumbrance."

"I know," the night elf replied while staring into the sky. "I have not been here as long as you have but the air here is different. All of the trees, plants, and animals are more guarded and frightened. This place doesn't just make your body cold but your heart as well."

The insights Narula provided were invaluable. She had a knack for explaining things that just seemed to make sense without being overly complicated like Cayden or overwhelmingly condescending like the Legend twins.

"I fear Northrend is attempting to grasp at you the same way Raymond. It worries me to think about what might happen to you when I am not by your side. All of us are here for you so please be more careful. If you need to rely on us, we will be there."

Her eyes slowly met his. They locked their gaze on one another as if the whole world melted around them.

"I will always be here for you."

Rayne's heart thumped loudly. The way she was looking at him; the way the words poured through her velvet lips was different. It was almost as if she was trying to say something else hidden beneath those kind words. His mind slowly cleared as he began opening up to her as he should have a long time ago.

"Thank you Narula," the paladin smiled. "I'm just worried."

"About the battle tomorrow?"

Rayne shook his head.

"About what I'm doing. I'm not even sure if I even want to be out here anymore. I remember when I was a child the reason why I wanted to become a paladin was to help people. Paladins were radiant warriors. Their aura's shined brighter than even the most noble of knights. I thought because of that, they were also the most powerful and in turn, the most adept at helping others."

The paladin stopped for a moment to take a good long breath. His memories were going places they hadn't traveled in years.

"I never really knew what I wanted to do as a child other than become a paladin. In a lot of ways, I still don't. I just get so much joy from making people happy it doesn't really matter what I'm doing. If everyone is smiling, I know I'm doing the right thing."

"You are certainly adept at that," the night elf smiled.

"Thank you," said the paladin. "But this is different. We're not fighting a common enemy anymore. I know we're not exactly friends either but that's one of the reasons why I didn't join the Valiance Expedition. I knew they would inevitably cross blades with the Horde over conflicting lands and that was something I did not want to be a part of. It's not what paladin's were meant to do. And yet, here I am, already contradicting myself by taking up arms against them."

Rayne put down the small communications device and rested his face into the palms of his gauntlets. The hardened strands of blonde hair tickled the tips of his fingers.

"One of the reasons why I had initially tarnished the Templar Knights reputation was to find the right people to help. I knew that anyone who was willing to take our assistance had to be desperate beyond comprehension. When your backs are against the wall and you have nowhere else to turn, that is where you'll find the purest form of sincerity."

"The Alliance appears to be adamant about securing this fortress," Narula stated. "I am sure their intentions are noble, otherwise, they wouldn't have depended upon you to assist them."

Her lips pursed forming a tiny but still noticeable smirk.

"Knowing you, I am sure you would have at least entertained a request from the Horde if they asked for your assistance."

"I wouldn't exactly go that far," laughed the paladin. "I'm not the biggest fan of their politics or strategy. The way they do things is a bit too savage and barbaric for my tastes. Though I hold no love for the Horde, I do not wish them harm either. The last thing I'd want in this world is for someone to hate me so I couldn't allow myself to feel that way towards others."

"You are too kind Raymond," the night elf smiled. "Although I feel as others who carry the Templar Knights banner do not share your sympathy or compassion towards the enemy."

"I know," Rayne sighed. "I couldn't impose or burden them to change who they are for my sake. I understand that in order to move forward towards where you desire to be, sometimes you have to be willing to fight. Their strength aids us all towards a common goal. I can do nothing but respect that even if I may not share their sentiments."

"If only your wisdom could be imparted upon everyone I am certain Azeroth would be a better world for all life."

Narula paused while carefully sliding her hand over the hardened plates of the paladin's gauntlet. She gazed upon him with her glowing silver eyes and continued in a stern but compassionate tone.

"You are destined for great things. The world will never know a greater champion than you Raymond Templar."

Electricity pulsated through Rayne's body. The conduit of energy bursting through his hand exploded with each thump within his chest. Narula was always a constant source of stability and inspiration. His heart raged calling out to her within his mind. She had never been this close to him and yet still stood so far away. Rayne could not find the courage to pursue it any more than he has already traversed. However, this time it was different. Something else was blocking the path.

"Thank you Narula," nodded the paladin.

His morose tone proved that not even her words could penetrate the armor surrounding his conscious.

"But I don't think it's in my heart to be a champion of this world. I was always taught that those who have power have the inherent responsibility to use it towards the preservation of life and defense of those who cannot do so themselves. I don't know exactly how to describe it but I feel my calling lies somewhere else."

The paladin stopped for a moment. His heart pulsed rapidly as thoughts began flooding through his mind. Maybe it wasn't just _somewhere else_ as he originally believed.

"Maybe I'm just venting," Rayne sighed. "I know what must be done and what is expected of me. That is the duty I swore to uphold when taking this mantle. However, I don't think I've ever asked myself the question about what I _want to do_ versus what I _should be doing_. A lot of things will change after today. I'm not quite sure if I'm ready to cross that path yet."

A puff of white mist exited the paladin's throat. The cold air continuously bore down upon him yet he couldn't feel anything but warmth when sitting next to the beautiful elf that could always make his heart flutter.

Rayne took a deep breath. He looked into his beloved's eyes and saw exactly what awaited him. The words finally came to his lips. He turned his head away and stared briefly at the glorious moon above before sinking his eyes back down to the soft snow below. This is exactly where his heart wanted to say.

"I never wanted to become a hero but before I knew it, I had already become one."

The paladin sulked as the weight of those words collapsed upon him. Though he had an incredible prowess towards the light, he did not wish to follow the same path as his brothers in arms. Everyone has different goals they wish to achieve. Rayne wished he didn't have to complete them with a sword in his hands. If there was any other way, he would gladly take that burden. Unfortunately, he was smart enough to know the difference between dreams and reality.

"I'm sorry Raymond."

Narula's words caught the paladin off guard. He affixed his eyes upon hers and listened intently as she continued.

"That is a journey you must cross on your own. Your life and the choices you make are your burden to bear. I cannot speak for you nor can I make those decisions. You must think carefully about what it is that you truly desire. Following a path that you did not make for yourself is the greatest injustice one can inflict upon oneself. This is not merely about what you choose to do or who you choose to be. You also have to think of those whom you lead. They believe that your cause is worth following. You inspire them to be better than they could be alone. That is why we chose you to be our leader and that is why you must think carefully before every decision you make."

Her hand slowly glided up Rayne's arm until it casually rested upon his shoulder.

"You are my dearest friend and most noble companion. I will always walk proudly alongside you wherever you may go but I can never lead the way."

The night elf slowly stood up. She casually dusted off the fragments of snow sticking to the leather straps of armor.

"Please try and get some rest tonight Raymond. You have a big day tomorrow."

Narula slowly walked away from the paladin. His eyes did not follow her. Rayne heard her faint footsteps trailing off into the distance. He always looked to the night elf to inspire and encourage him. Her words have often been the source of great insight and hope. However, tonight was anything but. She had hit him with the hammer of reality and its weight knocked the wind out of his thoughts.

The paladin wasn't upset about the abruptness of her comments. It was because he knew that she was right. Rayne had believed he was doing everything correctly when in reality it was merely halfheartedly. Everyone was desperate to find their calling in life and here he was dragging around friends from every corner of the globe while still searching for his.

Moisture slowly evaporated from his mouth. The paladin thought back to the moment he shared with another elf inside Findle's shop. Her words had touched him in a way that made him feel happy, cheerful, and most importantly, desired. His mind was conflicted as emotions began waging war with one another. Despite being in love with Narula for as far back as he could remember, a tiny part of Rayne's heart had slowly started to consider the young elf's bold offer.

* * *

 _Mountain Border_

 _Icecrown_

Tiny frozen claws of moisture dug into the small bits of exposed skin on the young elf's face. She had traversed these mountains for most of the evening. All of the survival training afforded to her by her expert teachers had paid off handsomely. She almost glided along the ridges with little need to stop as she approached the goal ahead.

The towering fortress of Icecrown Citadel stood behind her. Its massive spire stood out brilliantly in what was left the pale moonlight. The ominous stronghold made the surrounding area feel much colder and sinister as Lorelei continued to trek. Even the fear of death by the dreaded Lich King's hand did not impeded her resolve. The young elf's heart carried her through the thick snow banks and rigid mountainous terrain. It was as if she were another person entirely.

Lorelei's mind drifted to the last time she had spoken with her brother. His disparaging tenor was in full force that evening but did nothing but strengthen the young elf's resolve. She soon realized that in Jean's presence she became weak and timid. Her utter reliance on her brother's strength was downright sickening. If she even so much as changed her hairstyle or conversed with a new friend it was harshly met with disapproval and disdain.

However, Rayne was different. His compassion and understanding was beyond that of any mere elf within the walls of Silvermoon. He carried himself with a regal elegance that wasn't intimidating and yet, should be imitated. The paladin inspired her to be something more than she could ever hope to be on her own. She wanted to be just like him; confident, powerful, and brave. Even when faced by her own rudeness during their initial meeting he did not falter and maintained a calm demeanor. No one else would have done the same. That was just one of the many things that drew her heart to his.

The peak of the mountains were just up ahead. Lorelei continued to push with Emerald close behind clawing his way along the path. She could start to make out some ancient gray and bronze structure in the distance. Mighty walls stood nearly twenty-feet high with dome shaped towers on every corner. A mass of red banners adorned with the black curved symbol of the Horde hung symmetrically along various points. The highest peak of the fortress appeared to be built along the edge of the mountain itself. That had to be where Jean was stationed. There was no other place around this frozen desolate landscape fit for someone of his standing.

Light began to crest over the eastern hills. The sun would soon be making its appearance. Any guards stationed below would be able to spot her from a mile away. She quickly dashed along the rocky surface hopping from one flat point to the next. Jean would more than likely freak out at her presence but if she arrived before the attack began than he would have no choice but to confront the young elf and deal with their issues head on. It was the only thing she could think of to save Rayne's life.


	22. Chapter 21

_Eastspark Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp_

The Templar Knights huddled around the candle lit table. Carefully drawn stacks of parchment sat atop one another. A pile of tinkers rested just off to the side. They were crucial in the execution of his plan. Rayne began laying out every single step of their strategy in great detail. It was vital that every instruction was perfectly followed. One misstep could instantly lead to a catastrophe and, more importantly, cost him the valued lives of his soldiers and friends.

"We'll be splitting up into 4 teams," Rayne began. "Marcus and Weasel will be stationed in the Sunken Ring. You will be responsible for making sure all of the demolishers assume the proper formation during phase one. Cayden and Narula will be on the opposite end in the Broken Temple providing support as well. Your main priority is to defend the workshops so they can continue building and repairing our siege weapons."

The paladin removed the top parchment. Lying underneath was another similarly drawn map of the battlefield. A large red arc surrounded the fortress to the north.

"Once the demolishers are in place, that's when we'll move into phase two. Are all of the demolishers ready to go Weasel?" Asked the paladin.

"Yes sir," saluted the gnome. "I've placed the charges on each of them myself. The solid wood construction should ensure they burn for quite some time as requested."

Weasel procured two cylindrical shaped metal triggers and placed them on the table. Each had a shining red button on the top.

"Here are the detonators. Primary and secondary for failsafe purposes."

"What is the range on these?" Rayne pondered while closely examining the device into his hand.

"I'd say it should be fine from anywhere on the battlefield. You only really need to be in range of just one. As soon as the first detonates, it starts a chain reaction with the remaining explosives."

The paladin raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure this will work?"

"Absolutely," grinned the gnome. "I used something similar during the Second War. Was instrumental in disrupting the Horde navy. I can still hear my ears ringing from time to time."

"Alright," Rayne laughed under his breath. "I trust you but leave the detonation to me. Take the second and only push the trigger on my order. Is that understood?"

"Sure," Weasel replied rather quizzically. "But in the heat of battle, how are you going to get a message to me quickly? We're talking seconds here not minutes. Every one wasted means the entire plan is a wash."

"Not necessarily," smiled the paladin. He reached over to the four small tinkers and placed one in the hands of Marcus, Cayden, and Samuel. "These will allow us to communicate freely with each other on the battlefield."

Rayne took the last device and affixed it to his ear. The small hook wrapped around and secured the tinker to one side of his face.

"All you need to do is attach it like so. A transmitter near the base relays the sound being processed and sends it through the receiver plugged into your ear. That way, no one else on the battlefield can hear our conversation and we can stay in constant communication throughout the battle."

"Fascinating," Samuel remarked while attaching the tiny headset to his left ear. "And we just simply talk like this and –"

"Brilliant!" Cheered the mage.

The loud sound chirped heavily into their ears. Its screech continued to resonate in their heads. The pain of the sound wave lingered for much longer than anyone anticipated.

"At least we know they work," Marcus sighed. "Well, sort of."

"I apologize," Rayne shrugged. "I forgot to mention these devices are highly sensitive. The housing units should protect them from the cold and random floating debris but a slight jab or sharp blow can disable it completely so be extra careful."

"Perhaps it was a bit unwise giving it to the overzealous mage," teased Zariyana.

"I have a name you know!"

Another sharp blast of sound exploded in their ears. The others gave their flaming companion a sharp and condescending look.

"It's alright Cayden," Rayne replied trying to shake the constant ringing noise taking resident in his head. "You just need to talk as if the person you are speaking with is right in front of you. The device will take care of the rest."

"Sorry Rayne," sulked the mage.

"Still, Flame Brain does have a point," nodded Samuel. "This is a brilliant piece of technology. Despite the sullying of the Templar name in weeks prior, you are certainly rising from the ashes of previous follies."

"Indeed," smiled Zariyana. She robotically patted the paladin on the back as per usual while saying, "I am almost proud to be under your leadership."

"Thanks," Rayne winced forcing a small smile.

His thoughts slowly floated towards the discussion he had with Narula earlier that evening. They had endured a lot of hardships at Rayne's request. It was time to show them and the rest of Azeroth just what kind of team the young paladin had brought together. They deserved at least that much.

"We're putting all of that behind us now. After today, the Templar Knights will no longer be a source of mockery for our enemies and allies alike. We allowed them to think of us as fools, clowns, and utter failures. Lulling them into a false sense of security was just the first stage of my plan. Now we will show them exactly why we are not only on par with Azeroth's elite fighting forces, but even greater than they could have ever imagined."

The paladin had been preparing that speech in his head for hours. He carefully chose every word and phrase to rally his troops into a frenzy. If there was any time he needed to inspire his men, there was none greater than the present.

"Your seriousness is a bit unsettling," remarked Samuel. "And unfitting of your true nature Rayne."

"Samuel's right," Zariyana replied. "I much rather prefer the kind-hearted fool over a brooding warlord."

"I –!"

Rayne's mind went blank. He was at a complete loss for words. Throughout the constant teasing and harassment even given by his own Knights they had proven in one brief moment they had more surprises up their sleeves than the paladin had ever imagined.

"You hear that kid?" Marcus grinned while seizing Rayne's neck in a tight but familiar headlock. "There's no need to get all uptight with us. Why bother changing who you really are when that's the guy we want to follow?"

"The brute is correct," the male Legend twin stated. "We would have never agreed to join your ranks if we didn't know exactly who you were buried within that thick armor of yours."

"He may be polite, optimistic, and even overly cheerful at times but that is why we respect you," followed Zariyana. "You have the strength to be yourself even in the face of adversity and torment. Even the elders in the Legend family can admire that trait since many themselves are lacking."

"I hate to say it," sighed the mage, "but they're right. It doesn't matter where we go or what people think about us. As long as we stay true to who we are, there's nothing we can't do. In all my years of study, that's the greatest thing I have ever learned. And it wasn't written on the pages in any book. I learned that by following you Rayne."

"Finally a nugget of insight from the magus," Samuel joked.

"Really?" Cayden replied with a deep sense of elation. "I'm not as inspiring as Rayne is with words but –"

"Not that," waved the male Legend twin.

"The part about us being right," retorted his sister.

"You sons of –!"

"Calm down Flame-Brain," Weasel cut in tugging on the mage's thick cloak. "No need to let them get to you like that all the time. If you respect the guy so much, just think, _what would Rayne do?_ That saved my bacon from a lot of frying pans lately."

"But not any oversize gems," Marcus teased as he released the paladin from his beefy grip.

"One time!" Shouted the gnome. "One time and I'm forever branded! Just let it go crying out loud. Stop living in the past!

This was truly a sight to behold. Though it was common for this group, Rayne looked on with utter joy. He had worried for weeks about their morale. All of his plans have been unorthodox to say the least. The fact that they have not only accepted him but find his presence flourishing was the greatest feeling he could have hoped for. That is when his eyes slowly traveled to the one he had to truly thank for making all of this possible.

Narula didn't say a word. She casually paid him a delicate glance with that penetratingly beautiful smile of hers. It told the paladin everything he needed to hear.

"And save that temper for the battle," Weasel remarked pointing his tiny finger in the direction of the hot-blooded mage. "Unlike the lot of you, only muscles and myself have actually gone to war with these brutes."

"We're going to need all of your extensive experience and wisdom on this day my good friend," smiled the paladin. "That is why I have you two in the front lines."

"And what of us Rayne?" The female Legend asked.

"You and your brother will be guarding the Westspark Workshop. We'll be pushing the siege engines out of the southernmost buildings so it is vital that they remain standing an operational should any stragglers from the front lines break through."

"Sounds simple enough," replied Samuel.

"That's not all," Rayne replied. He pulled out a small booklet from a pouch and placed it on the table. The title read _Siege Engines and You – A Complete Moron's Guide to Mechanical Warfare_.

"You're going to need to get very familiar with that tank."

"You cannot be serious," groaned the priest.

"Life is full of unexpected experiences brother," Zariyana chimed. "Perhaps we can make the most of it and stand above the other cousins of ours who lack the intelligence and initiative to succeed in such challenges."

"That's the spirit Zariyana," Rayne grinned. "The gunner seat is fairly intuitive. Driving it will require a bit of studying and practice to get it perfectly."

"I'll leave that to you my sweet brother," smiled the female Legend twin.

"I don't see how that's fair," her brother grumbled.

"You are _older_ after all."

"By thirty seconds."

"If you need any help," the paladin interrupted. "Ask Cayden. He actually has some experience with these vehicles."

"Who?" They collectively asked.

"Don't say it!" The mage barked.

Rayne laughed. It was nice to see their spirits still at ease given the endeavor they were about to embark upon. He had definitely chosen his team wisely.

"Once the explosions go off, we will begin phase two. Marcus, Weasal and I will trade positions. They will head to the Eastspark Workshop while I take over the defense of the Sunken Ring. From there, we will launch two waves of siege engines towards the fortress. The first wave will be piloted by Commander Zanneth's squadron while the second will feature Marcus and Weasel leading the charge in group one and Samuel and Zariyana in group two."

"Are you sure you can defend the Eastspark shop on your own?" Questioned the Warrior. "You've already doubled up the defense on all other shops."

The paladin nodded.

"I don't foresee many of them getting past you two. Besides, I'll be inside the shop for the most part helping Findle with a few last minute touches."

"Findle's still here?" The puzzled rogue asked. "That scally-wank hasn't seen a lick of battle in his gear twirling life. I thought he'd be miles away by now."

"We fell behind with a few last minute additions. Affixing the demolishers with our support tinkers took longer than expected since we had to test each one individually before proceeding. That is why I'm stationed at the Eastspark Workshop to not only ensure of his safety but also direct the flow from battle from a distant vantage point."

All of their bases were covered. The only major variable to deal with was Findle's presence but Rayne vowed to protect the gnome's life with his own if need be. Findle wasn't a soldier or a warrior. He was a simple tinkerer that offered to help a friend in need.

"Hey Rayne."

The paladin turned to the voice calling him from behind. Captain Sherwood trekked through the thick layer of snow with a small squad of soldiers. Each of them carried large sheets of steel that were nearly taller than they were and equally long halberds with pikes nearly two feet in length.

"Lena!"

Rayne was elated to see that she had acquired the shields he had insisted they carry for the defense.

"I hope those shields won't be too much of a burden."

"Not at all," Lena smiled. "It's been a while since I parked my hide behind one of these hunks of metal. I appreciate the added armor but it's a shame most of those green-skinned bastards won't see the smug looks on our faces as we take them down."

"Lucky them," the gnome sarcastically spat under his breath.

"Did you relay the strategy to the rest of our soldiers?"

"Of course," she nodded. "Though I do find it a bit odd you have all two-hundred of us on the middle path while the east and west are split between Zanneth's men. They're guarding all of the workshops. Why would they bother going down the center?"

"Our soldiers will be for utility and support purposes," the paladin replied. "If any path is being overwhelmed, it will be much quicker to funnel troops in that direction from the center than try and march them all the way across the battlefield from east to west or vice versa. I will leave assignment of our troops are your discretion."

"Yes sir," the Captain eagerly saluted.

"Just make sure you and your squad with the tower shields hold your position. We absolutely cannot lost the foothold in the center of the battlefield."

"Why is that?" Lena raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "I've already had scouts survey the region. There isn't anything of value on that path."

"Should the odds weigh against us during the battle, it may become our greatest strategic significance."

The paladin took a deep breath. He pulled the last piece of parchment on the bottom of the stack and placed it on the top.

"If all else fails, we'll have to resort to Plan B."

"Please say it ain't so," whined the gnome. "My body wasn't designed to handle that kind of stress."

Lena carefully examined the strategy as it was carefully laid out upon the table. It took a few moments to process it all. She wanted to drink in every detail before formulating the proper response.

"Rayne," the Captain began, "have you lost your frickin' mind?!"

"I know it's risky," laughed the paladin. "But I've accounted for all of the necessary variables. Even Findle double checked my calculations. The only thing I need from you is to hold the shields at the proper angle and a strong arm to keep them in place."

"It's more than a huge risk," Lena countered while shaking her head. "What you're planning is damn near suicide."

"Unfortunately, it may be our last option available," sighed Rayne. "I wasn't planning on going down that road but if any hope of us succeeding still exists, I'm willing to take that chance."

"Are you sure you've accounted for everything?"

The paladin nodded. Lena was not only a great combatant but a stickler for details and ensure all bases were covered and triple checked.

"If the time comes, I'll give the signal as I did in Utgarde. Marcus and Weasel will head south to meet up with me. Sam and Zari will move from their position to take the second wave of sieges from the Eastspark Workshop while Narula and Cayden simultaneously head south to take the sieges from the Westspark Workshop. There will be a lot of movement involved but if we pull this off, the fortress is as good as ours."

"And what about their Commander?" The warrior interjected. "Given his reputation, you don't think he'll just lay down his blade when we come barreling in there, do you?"

"No I do not," Rayne answered while shaking his head. "But I don't need to defeat him in combat. I just need to hold him off until the inner walls go down. Once the defenses crumble, they'll have no reason to continue to fight. That's how we'll win this battle."

A line of deep orange light peeked over the eastern mountains. Dawn had finally ascended into the battlefield. The time for discussions has ended. Parlaying would not be a viable option. They now had to steel their resolves and execute the strategy given.

"Time to move," Rayne declared. "Everyone, get into your positions. You are free to act as you see fit unless I say otherwise over the headset."

"Alright you dogs," grinned the Captain. She had been waiting for this moment for far too long. "Get up off your asses and march! Move! Move! Move!"

The ubiquitous orders of Lena notwithstanding, the warrior began to feel the familiar tickle of adrenaline beginning to flow through his veins. This was more than just sacking a keep. They were finally getting their hands dirty in a good, old-fashioned war. Marcus excitedly slung the hefty mace over his shoulder and picked up the gnome standing next to him in his free hand.

"Let's go fun-size," the warrior quipped while storming north.

"Put me down you oaf!"

"Trust me, this is faster!"

The priests collectively sighed. It was enough to promote their utter dismay at the proceeding sight without actually saying anything in its regards.

"Shall we?" Asked Samuel.

"Right behind you," his sister replied.

They didn't bother hurrying towards their position. The long trek towards the Westspark workshop would give the male Legend sibling ample time to study the book in which he had been tasked to master during the heat of battle. For anyone else, it may have been an unbeatable challenge. For Samuel Legend, it was almost too easy.

Cayden snapped his fingers as a wave of blue arcane energy began enveloping his body. He slowly started to grow transluscent and nearly faded from sight instantaneously.

"I'll jump ahead and make a few quick preparations. See you in a few moments Narula."

The night elf nodded and finished with a smile. As soon as everyone was out of view, she turned her gaze toward the paladin. He was just about to leave himself but now that they stood all alone in this battlefield, Rayne couldn't take his eyes off her.

She slowly approached him. With every step taken his heart beat quicker and quicker. By the time only a single foot separated them, it was damn near humming.

"Please," Narula begged, "be careful Raymond."

"You as well Narula," he smiled back. "I know with your strength I have nothing to worry about but I still –"

A tender hand fell upon Rayne's chest. The night elf closed her eyes and began whispering a small incantation. The lovely Darnassian words flowed from her tongue with such elegance it nearly put him into a trance.

"Ishnu-alah," she finished while staring back at him with gleaming silver eyes.

"Narula," he spoke nearly tripping over each syllable. "Thank –"

The words were forced back down his throat as the night elf pressed her chest onto his. His body trembled in her soft but tight grip. The delicate touch of her arms wrapped around the paladin's body and infused it with an indescribable warmth.

Narula's head drew closer. His breathing started growing erratic. Their cheeks brushed together in an explosion of heat. Her lips inched near his ears. The gentle touch of her breath continued to waft against his generously exposed skin.

"You have nothing to fear Raymond. I will always protect you."

The night elf slowly released him from her embrace. She left him with the same radiant smile that always seems to turn the paladin's heard into mush before turning away and blitzing down the open path to the west.

Rayne's heart continued to pound incessantly. Adrenaline couldn't even fight its way through. His blood was more preoccupied with other matters to even think of battle at this point. The familiar touch and humbling words of his dearest friend had reminded him of another moment that had not long passed. Though his heart may be singing a familiar tune, his mind was speaking another language entirely. Somewhere, buried within the conflicting confusion, the paladin saw the answer he was looking for all along.

* * *

 _Wintergrasp Keep_

 _Wintergrasp_

The golden-bronze roof of the keep provided Lorelei and her furry companion ample hiding space. She perched herself just between the mountain and the short peak on the eastern side of the structure. From here, the young elf was able to see across most of the battlefield without anyone noticing her position.

She had made it just in time. The sun had started to rise. Its shining rays provided little warmth in this frozen tundra. The air here was moist and cold; much different than Dalaran despite its increased elevation. Until a few days ago, Lorelei had never slept outside the walls of Silvermoon and now, she's basking in the hellish chill of the Lich King's backyard.

The thick links of mail bounded by tough leather hide kept her body warm enough to continue. Not even the clawing embrace of sleep could steal her attention away. Just below she saw hundreds of Horde soldiers gathered in their tents and watching the gates of this fortress. More importantly, her brother had to be close by. The dimly lit torches hanging on the wall did not provide ample coverage of the entire inner-base. She couldn't see through the thick black haze below. The moon was vanishing along with the night that brought it and there was nothing revealing itself through a sea of darkness.

Something in the distance stole her gaze. It was as if the very trees of the forest had uprooted and advanced for new ground. The black shadows cascading the battlefield slowly grew to a deep gray. The clattering of giant vehicles began charging up the path. Dozens of them lined up in battle formation marched forward towards the immense fortress.

The battle was about to begin. Her heart pounded viciously nearly ripping clean through her chest and armor. Lorelei desperately searched through the wave of siege vehicles for one particular individual. She could see nothing. Not even the blue and gold battle standards hanging from each war machine as they quickly drew closer to the fortress walls.

* * *

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

 _Wintergrasp_

Light began peeking over the horizon. Jean stood in the center of the fortress staring back at it with contempt. Most of the soldiers were still resting. Some even snored so loudly it nearly shook the walls. The Commander warned Dardosh not to let the men slack as the attack could happen anytime. He could hardly sleep a minute with the very inkling of an attack that could very well present itself any second.

At least Kilrath could be trusted. The mag'har orc was already on the front lines ensuring their overnight scouts and defenders were performing the duties assigned to them. He had them make preparations for an evening attack but none of the scouts reporting seeing any new members of the Alliance past the workshop perimeters. After Cursesong's brief attempt at reconnaissance, the Commander kept his guard up. He knew they were out there even without any evidence to prove it.

A horn blared the in the distance. The sound originated from the center wall in the outer region. It blasted the familiar war cry that immediately grasped the attention of the previously slumbering soldiers. Templar had finally come and he did so at the damn near worst time possible.

"Kilrath!" The Commander shouted.

He drew his broadsword and stormed through the inner wall leading him towards southern end of the fortress.

The orc jumped down from his position and ran to meet his superior. A look of dread was painted on his face that cut through the dimly lit area like a Titan's blade. This did not bode well either's sanity.

"What is happening?!"

"Siege vehicles Commanders," Kilrath grunted. "Two dozen of them have stormed our gates."

Continuous explosions pounded against the walled. The ground quaked against their conquering presence. A horrid smell of sulfur of smoldering stone permeated the cool morning air.

"How could they amass that many and move them into position so quickly right under our noses?" Hounded the blood elf.

"Camouflage," the orc groaned. "They used the local shrubs and trees to mask their presence. By the time we were able to make out what they were, it was already too late."

Another wave of eruptions clattered against their walls in continued succession. The Commander's tone grew more desperate with every passing breath.

"What type of vehicles did they send after us? Where are they positioned?"

"Only demolishers. They have arced around the perimeter and are attacking the walls on all sides."

"Dardosh!" Shouted the Commander.

The green-skinned orc made his way from the northern battlement. He stopped just in front of his superior. An overwhelming sense of bloodlust filled his eyes as the sounds of combat fueled his unbridled rage.

"Ignore the vehicles," the blood elf ordered. "Have the archers disable the drivers. Demolishers are useless without someone to operate it. Afterwards, concentrate your efforts on attacking the workshops."

"Yes sir," the Vice-Commander begrudgingly complied.

The tactics presented were not a common or preferred orcish strategy. However, the leader of the Horde defense was not an orc. Dardosh wouldn't dare raise issues against his superior once again. One embarrassment was more than enough.

"Kilrath," Jean stated while turning to the Tactical Officer. "Deploy our siege engines. Have them swarm from the east and west sides. We'll sweep their vehicles one by one until our units meet in the middle. Focus the cannons on disabling the demolishers, not destroying them. If we can litter our walls with the massive debris of the collective wreckage of their fallen units it will greatly impede their army from reaching our walls."

"Yes Commander," the mag'har orc nodded.

Jean walked right alongside his subordinate with haste. More collective eruptions exploded against their walls. The structures continued to tremble underneath the weight of the Alliance assault.

"Commander?" A puzzled Kilrath asked. "I thought you were going to stay behind and guard the vault entrance."

"I need to see for myself what Templar is up to. If he is cunning enough to plan such a coordinated attack, I cannot sit idly by and allow it to continue unhindered so long as my command reigns."

They proceeded up the ladder towards the upper section of the front wall. Kilrath running through each cavity and began shouting orders to the bombardiers relaying the Commander's orders perfectly. Jean took watch through an open archway. He stared out into the distant battlefield. The overwhelming amount of demolishers knocking at their walls did not hold his attention. He had planned for every kind of contingency. The only unknown variable was the limits of Rayne Templar's courage and imagination.

* * *

 _Eastspark Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp_

All twenty-four demolishers were nearly in place. At least that's what he could tell from this specific angle. The paladin looked on through the zoom setting of his goggles. Their attack had to be swift in order for it to be most effective. Any little error could cause the entire operation to go up in flames, literally and figuratively. If the eyes of his engineering device couldn't provide accurate feedback, he had to rely on those that had a better vantage point to the heart of the battle.

"Marcus," Rayne called through the communications device. "Have all of the demolishers on the east side gotten into position."

"Not yet," the warrior called back. "Whoa, this is weird. It feels like you're right next to me but I can't even see you."

The paladin regretted not testing this device further with his companions.

"Cayden, how about you?"

"Almost," the mage reported. He began quietly reciting the incantation of a spell. Trickles of the ancient magic language began tickling the ears of the rest of the Knights. "However, we've noticed some odd behavior. A few of the vehicles have ceased firing."

"What?" Rayne's curiosity spiked. "What do you mean Cayden? What's going on?"

"I'm starting to see it too," Marcus cut it. "They've got snipers up on the walls. They're targeting the demolisher drivers specifically."

Dread clouded the paladin's mind. Without the drivers, the vehicles couldn't continue firing. The walls needed to be whittled down tremendously by this first wave of attacks in order for phase 2 to succeed.

"How many of them are still firing?"

"At least half on my end," the warrior replied.

"Same for use," the mage added.

Rayne gritted his teeth. He may have overestimated the initial advantage. However, there were still a few tricks he had left up his sleeve.

"Marcus, Cayden. Have the workshops build more demolishers to replace the ones lost immediately. We need to keep up the pressure."

"We're moving to phase 2 already?" Marcus questioned.

"Not yet," responded the paladin. "But we cannot afford to stop our attacks while their walls are still standing."

"Roger that," the warrior stated. "Should I have Weasel outfit them like the others? It may take some more time but –"

Marcus' voice suddenly dropped. The paladin checked his communications device to ensure they still had a proper connection while calling out to his companion.

"Marcus, what's happening?!"

"The Horde," gulped the warrior. "They're funneling out of the gates. Hundreds of them."

"I see it too," Cayden remarked. "They're going after the demolishers directly."

Rayne's mind spiked with terror. He never expected the enemy to go after the vehicles directly. The demolishers were equipped with anti-infantry battering rams but they were currently disabled on all of the vehicles on the battlefield. If the Horde figured out the secret to their plan, the battle would surely be over.

* * *

 _The Front Gates_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

"Lok'tar ogar!" Roared the Vice-Commander. "Charge!"

Hundreds of soldiers poured through the exits. They were heavily armed with blades, axes, hammers, and wearing the thickest plates of armor. Metal clapped in wicked succession as they rushed to meet their enemies directly on the field of battle.

Dardosh couldn't hide his immense grin. Though there were no soldiers present on foot, plenty still remained on the vehicles. The blood elf told him to ignore the vehicles but not the men piloting them. He watched as the massive companies of proud Horde warriors soaked over the demolishers and ripped the drivers from their exposed seats.

A light sparked within his mind. He was ordered to take down the workshops. What better way to do it than with a freshly delivered batch of perfectly good siege weapons.

"Turn the vehicles!" Ordered the Vice-Commander. "We'll use their own devices against them!"

The collective army gave an agreeing grunt. Dozens of soldiers began climbing the large wooden vehicles and seizing their controls. Dardosh continued to laugh at the sight. The Alliance's puny resistance was handled with such ease. It made him sick to think they would dare bring in a blood elf to handle the defense when all it took was some natural orcish strategy.

* * *

 _Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

 _Dardosh you fool!_

The Commander looked on with a foul taste seeping into his throat. The orc had directly disobeyed his order. He wasn't thinking about aiding the defense of this keep. All he was concerned with was death and destruction. Mounting a great offensive attack was one way to deal with intruders but it was not the _right_ way; not in this situation at all. The Vice-Commander did not have the mind for proper field tactics or thinking three or four moves ahead of their opponents. He only saw the bloodlust of combat.

All of the Alliance's vehicles began turning around. The pitiful soldiers Templar had sent gave ultimately their lives for an inevitable outcome. Pools of blood began soaking the snowy field below. The elf's eyes peered closer. His mind wrapped around the sight of each bested driver. They had been soundly defeated and caked in their own vital juices.

Upon closer inspection, fear captivated the Commander's thoughts. Throughout his studies in training as a proud warrior of Silvermoon he was very familiar with the anatomy of all members of the Alliance races. However, he didn't know any of them that had black colored blood.

"DARDOSH!" Jean shouted to the soldiers below. "It's a trap! Get out of there!"

* * *

 _Eastspark Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp_

"This isn't good," Marcus stated. "All of them have swarmed around the demolishers. They're climbing on the vehicles."

"No," cursed the paladin. This wasn't a part of his plan. It wasn't even brought up as part of the contingency.

"We've got even bigger problems," Cayden chimed in. "Siege engines are pouring out of the west gates. They're swarming in to meet the demolishers."

"I see it too," replied the warrior. "They're massing on each other."

"What should we do Rayne?"

The paladin's thoughts stopped. He didn't even recognize who asked the question. Initiating the end of phase one was out of the question. Too many lives would be at risk. This wasn't part of the equation. Rayne knew what the mission objective was but ultimately, it was his call on how to complete it. The hundreds of soldiers approaching their position would greatly hinder the rest of the operation. It was as if the entire plan had been countered in one foul swoop.

"Marcus," the paladin carefully began. "Send the demolishers to disable the stolen vehicles. We are going with an alternate route. Tell Weasel not to trigger the detonation."

A muffled cry could be heard in the background followed by static and a few desperate please.

"What did Rayne say?" A squeaky voice pressed through the receiver. "Wait a second. Hey! What are you –"

The paladin turned his goggles towards the Sunken Ring. He zoomed in to their maximum distance. The workshop was in full view but warrior and rogue were nowhere to be seen. Rayne didn't need the enhanced vision of his goggles to paint the picture of what was going on. The receiver told him everything he needed to know.

"MARCUS STOP –!"


	23. Chapter 22

_Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Explosions ripped into the air. Bellows of giant flames burst forth from the massive line of demolishers. Heavy steel and wooden parts shot out from the site of each blast pelting the cracked walls of the keep with ferocious debris. Every single vehicle had detonated nearly simultaneously leaving an arc of tall flames and massive destruction in its wake.

The Commander was violently launched backwards from the resounding blast. A wave of air slammed against the heavy plates of armor. Their terrifying howls were silenced by the horrid ringing still plaguing his ears. His body was sent airborne as if shot out of a cannon. The freezing winds slashed against the exposed skin on his face. Jean saw the wall growing further and further apart. His hand reached out towards it. The fortress continued to shrink.

Steel clashed with the solid stone floor. The Commander's body landed with a sickening crash, chipping and denting the ground that caught his fall. He slid another few feet before coming to a full halt. His breathing was tried and erratic. The very air in his body was stolen from him and he desperately tried to bring the life-giving substance back where it belonged.

Blackness crept through the corners of his eyes. The world grew dim with every passing breath. Numbness swelled throughout the blood elf's nerves. As the darkness grew, the ringing in his ears started to dwindle. Hideous roars quickly filled the air. The painful chants of the fallen soldiers erupted from the burning wreckage outside of these walls. Consciousness was slipping from the tips of his fingers with every fleeting moment and all he could think about was folly of one monstrous orc and the lives needlessly sacrificed to appease his pride.

* * *

 _Eastspark Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp_

Rayne dropped to his knees. The slicing screech of his armor scratching against the cold marbled floor didn't even register. His eyes were locked on the devastation ahead. Air could not enter his lungs. The paladin was paralyzed watching the hideous sight of the smoldering corpses of fallen soldiers and the few unlucky owns writhing in agony that were not privileged with a quick death.

This was not supposed to happen. Rayne had designed the robotic drivers to appear like general footman. The plate armor perfectly masked the gears, wires, pipes, and springs powering them underneath. They only had one function; to drive to a specific spot on the battlefield and continually fire boulders on a set interval. The string of explosions were meant to create a wall of flame that would force outgoing enemy soldiers to take longer routes towards the workshops and mask the second wave of demolishers as they continued to barrage the walls with more boulders. A squad of siege engines would follow that could easily cut through the thick flames and make short work of the already damaged defenses.

It was perfect on paper. And it would have been so easy had everything gone his way.

"I'm sorry Rayne."

The sullen voice on the end of the receiver did nothing to pull the paladin away from his dismayed trance.

"This is war kid," the warrior continued. "Did you really think they were going to just let us walk in there and take the fortress without shedding a drop of blood?"

Long drawn breaths passed through Rayne's nostrils. He was trying to focus on the words of his companion rather than the carnage locked within the frame of his goggles.

"I know you're not a killer. It's not in your nature to do that sort of work. Even after all my years of fighting battles with the blood of hundreds on my hands. I can respect that," Marcus stated. "It takes a lot of strength to do what you do. But, the pendulum swings both ways. Having the courage to both _do_ and _not do_ something necessary in order to move forward is something we all strive for. I did what was needed to not only survive, but win."

The harsh words of the warrior resonated within the paladin's mind. An unfamiliar feeling began tickling his heart.

"You may be the shield that protects the world but I am its blade. For every guy like you, there are ten of me needed to ensure the safety and protection of our way of life."

Flame sparked within Rayne's chest. This horrific burning sensation had returned after years of focus, meditation, and training in order to quell this raging fire from spreading into an inferno. The absolutely worst thing a paladin could lose in their endless journeys was their temper.

"It's a tough job," Marcus sighed, "but I don't mind getting my hands dirty. This isn't on you Rayne. It was my call. I took the decision from you. Don't beat yourself up over it."

Hundreds of lives were lost in an instant. The mission was not one of murder. Rayne wanted to desperately succeed in this task without having to take the life of another. Perhaps he was foolish to think in such a manner. Marcus may very well be right. It pained the paladin to admit it but they would more than likely suffer a brutal defeat had the warrior not pulled the trigger.

Reality began seeping into his mind. Victory had a different definition depending on which side of the wall you were standing on. The mercy residing in Rayne's heart was not as celebrated in the hearts of his adversaries. They would slaughter any and all that would oppose them. Sharpened blades would cut through their throats as they begged to surrender. Bodies would litter the ground and stain the white landscape with blood. There was no other fate that awaited them should the Horde emerge victorious.

Rayne returned to his feet. Anger continued to brew inside but slowly returned to the deepest, darkest part of his locked emotions. The mere thought of his friends and loved ones being massacred was enough to focus his resolve on the task at hand. It may not have been the way he wanted it to go down but for now, it spared them from a much crueler fortune.

"Proceed with phase two," Rayne hissed. Every word had to force its way through his clenched teeth.

Nothing had changed. The mission was still a go. The choice was not his to make but still an unfortunate catalyst of his attempted strategy. Two endings awaited him. When this was all over, the paladin had to face the grim reality of what may lie ahead. He accepted the words of his companion and decided he would much rather atone for the travesties of this day in battle than mourn the lives of his fallen comrades.

* * *

 _Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

A sea of darkness stood before him. Cold filled every sense. The smell of ice stifled them above all else. Then there was that horrid ringing. He begged for it to stop. Slumber called out to him. He wanted to relinquish himself in its warm embrace. The numbness encroaching through every nerve was gradually making its way towards his consciousness. Anything would be welcomed at this point to relieve him of this atrocious feeling.

The droning continued. Three continuous beats over and over again. Each more hideous than the one prior. They rose above the quaking roar of the lightless atmosphere. No matter how much the chill of the surrounding black void surrounded him, it only seemed to grow louder and louder with each passing moment.

No amount of resolve could overcome this horrifying new reality. Ignoring it was no longer an option. A crack of light split through the center of the black wall. Grayness started filling in. Sounds sharpened. The familiar tinge of numbness surrounding his body began melting away. A new world awaited him. The three disgusting beats finally came to life as his consciousness returned.

"Commander!"

The walls rattled as another volley of attacks struck its thick hide. The sky was so terribly blue as the sun had final crept high enough to reveal it. Jean stared back at the mag'har orc kneeling beside him. He had finally returned back to the intolerably reality but anything was better than the void previously occupied.

"Kilrath?"

The Commander immediately picked himself up to a sitting position. Lying on his back for anything other than sleep was unbecoming of a soldier. He shook his head and pressed the cold steel gauntlets against his brow to help sharpen his mind.

"Are you alright Commander?"

"Never mind me. What's going on?" The blood elf's desperation was clear and thick. "What's happening out there?"

"Our soldiers have suffered heavy losses. They had just started surrounding their vehicles when," the orc paused. His memory may still be rattled after the sight replaying itself in his mind. "The demolishers exploded."

That's right. Jean remembered the inklings of a trap when the bodies of the Alliance operators were mere facades. Never did he once suspect Templar of pulling off such a cunning tactic. It was unlike a paladin to utilize such underhanded methods. His growing disdain for the human had tripled within seconds.

"How many?" Jean's question came out more like a statement. "How many have we lost?"

The walls cried in agony as another torrent of boulders collided against the structure. Every crunch of stone built upon the Commander's already steep anxiety.

"We're still scrambling. Exact figures are unclear at this point but I estimate that over ninety-percent of our ground forces are either lost or critically injured."

"And what of the siege engines?"

Jean's desperation was fueled by a bubbling of rage swelling within his core. The orc looked away for a moment and hung his head in shame. He didn't have to say a word to convey the answer the Commander sought.

"All of them?!" The blood elf spat.

The accursed fate of their siege vehicles snapped the final straw of Jean's sanity. They engineering vehicles were designed with the thickest sheets of armor. Their bodies were almost better at taking punishment than dishing it out. Losing them just as the battle had begun may have signed this fortress's ultimate fate.

"So what are we doing now?" The Commander barked as he picked himself up to a standing position. "Just standing idly by while they pummel us with stones until our walls turn to dust?"

"Our cannons are returning fire as ordered Commander," the Tactical Officer replied as he stood up. "However, the enemy vehicles are positioned behind the smoldering wreckage. A towering wall of fire shields them from view. Our accuracy is suffering we cannot exactly pinpoint their location and we do not have the resources to quell the flames at this time."

Templar may have found the one strategy that the Commander did not prepare for. Jean had taken into account nearly every factor, the most important of which, was that his opponent was a paladin as well. That key fact was accounted for in every facet of their defense. However, the blood elf did not expect the humble man he had shared tea with just a week ago to utilize such and underhanded strategy to best his fortress. All of the intelligence they had received about him was compromised. The paladin's ruse had worked this time but Jean saw through the clouds of doubt. It was time to fight fire with fire.

"Order our workshops to begin new construction this instant. Send out nothing but plague throwers," the blood elf ordered. "Forget attacking the workshops and siege vehicles. I want to burn the flesh off their disgusting hides. Our main strategy has not changed. If there are none left standing to oppose us than it matters not how many resources they have. Leave none alive."

The token design of forsaken engineering was certainly cruel but effective. Jean didn't want to resort to this horrific method but he was left with no other choice. Templar had played a devastating first hand. It was time for the Horde to respond in kind.

"Yes sir," nodded the mag'har orc. "And what of the men outside?"

"Have them continue to attack any outlying forces as ordered but bring Dardosh to me," stated the Commander. "If he is still alive I want him here this instant. I have a new assignment that is more fitting for his skills."

"Yes sir."

The Tactical Officer was just about to leave at begin relaying the orders of his superior as requested before being stopped one last time.

"One last thing Kilrath," Jean started. His eyes grew sharp. "Your ten assassins. Send them out immediately and bring me Templar's head."

* * *

 _Wintergrasp Keep_

 _Wintergrasp_

Lorelei stood aghast at the mayhem playing out before her eyes. Fire bellowed in a hideous arc that surrounded the once mighty fortress. The light of the still rising sun paled in comparison to the red and orange monstrosity attempting to consume everything in its path.

Dread consumed the young elf's thoughts. She scanned the battlefield fervently trying to confirm or deny her greatest fear. Hundreds of orc soldiers lay about the ground as charred corpses; a sad testament of their former glory. Others scattered across the snow howled into the morning air. She could hear their feverish screams even from this position high above anything else in the surrounding area.

Panic was spreading amongst the troops. Lorelei could see them frantically trying to cope with the horrible tragedy that has befallen their position. The two workshops on the east and west ends began pumping out fat billows of dark smoke. All of the vehicles that had originally gone out to contest the enemy forces now lay in rubble. Their remains continue to burn as the roaring flames show no signs of letting up.

Amidst all of this vile combat, there was still no sign of Rayne or her brother Jean. The last thing she wanted to find was a pile of ashes that vaguely represented two of the most important people in her life. She didn't come all this way just to watch them die.

The young elf's determination was waning. With every passing second her anxiety grew. There had to be something out there with the one answer she so desperately sought. As her eyes continued to peel the snow laden field, she didn't even notice the small squad of troops quickly tip-toing their way towards the front lines.

* * *

 _Eastspark Workshop_

Wintergrasp

"Cayden," the paladin called. "What is your status?"

The receiver returned a muffled sound. Quick bursts of noise echoed within Rayne's ear. It was difficult to decipher just what was going on.

"Sorry Rayne, was in the middle of an incantation" the mage replied between quick breaths. "We've encounters some resistance from ground forces. A few of the soldiers that survived the blast have made their way to our position."

Cayden's statement sank into the abysmal pit of Rayne's stomach. He never wanted to be involved in a battle where conversations such as this were commonplace but the paladin understood that simply trying to avoid them was just a naïve state of mind.

"How are you holding up?"

"Fine," he casually remarked. "Narula's got most of them tied up in vines a hundred feet outside our perimeter. She's been using spores to put them asleep so we're not troubled at all. Her strength is truly remarkable. To tell you the truth. I'm starting to get a bit bored."

"Cayden…"

Rayne's tone implored the gravity of their situation. Despite their overwhelming strength and intellectual advantage, this was still a serious matter.

"Right. Sorry Rayne."

"Never lower your guard," the paladin pleaded. "A simple oversight can lead to a major catastrophe. Face every adversary as if you perceived their skill greater than your own and you shall never falter."

"He's right kid," Marcus added. "There's no room for monotony on the battlefield nor any need for it either."

The sound of heavy metal cracking against flesh echoed into everyone's ears. A muffled grunt filled their receivers soon after followed by another devastating, bone-crunching attack.

Rayne was unsure how to respond. He was still reeling for the warrior's previous words. Even though he had momentarily set aside the emotions weighing over him, the paladin still felt his companion's decision vexing on his every breath.

"I know I'm not your favorite person right now Rayne but I have some important information for you as well as everyone else."

The warrior's tone was somber and serious. In the few weeks that they had spent together, Rayne had learned many things about the most experience fighter in their ranks. Most importantly, whenever Marcus' words grew grim, everyone should shut up and listen.

"A pair of Horde soldiers just paid us a particular visit. These ones weren't like the others. Much more skilled and equipped to the teeth with small blades, potions, and vials of poison. The first one surprised me but I was able to take him out fairly quickly. The second ran off after his buddy took a big helping of steel to the face. Weasel chased him down but accidentally killed the bastard before we could get any information out of him"

"Hey, what did you expect me to do?" Cried the gnome in the background. "He was running away and about to call for help."

The sounds of combat were still fairly thick. Both Knights appeared to still be engaged with the squad of outlying soldiers Cayden had mentioned prior.

"I expect you to actually do what I frick'n tell you instead of slit the guy's throat in mid stride!"

"You know how I roll. If it blabs, I stabs."

"Are you two alright?" Rayne asked with an added level of concern.

"We're fine Rayne," Marcus replied. Thinking of others before the mission was just the paladin's style. "More importantly, I think you need to watch your back. That old buddy of yours wouldn't have sent these guys out here unless he was looking for you specifically. That's why I think their guy backed off when the first ambush failed."

"Assassins?" The paladin pondered his next question carefully. "Why would he send them after one when there are hundreds of us?"

It didn't make sense. Jean was a paladin just like Rayne. This wasn't how they operated. The light was a source of benevolence and justice. Meaningless killings and assassinations were not their style.

"My guess is, we peeved him pretty good with that first stunt of ours. Could mean one of two things. The first is that he figures cutting the chicken's head off will send the army into disarray."

"And the second?"

"He's really a petty asshole and just wants to hang your head on a spike outside his door."

The former was at least slightly plausible but the second made no sense at all. Rayne trusted the warrior's judgment. His battlefield knowledge, prowess, and experience were second to none.

"I'm inclined to believe him as well," Cayden replied. "I just caught two of them approaching our workshop from the northwest quadrant."

"Caught?" Rayne pondered. Fear quickly settled in. "Is everything okay? Where are they?!"

"Relax Rayne," the mage stated. "I spent most of the night setting up arcane trap runes. The snow made for great camouflage. They didn't even see it coming. Completely caught them by surprise. The looks on their faces is priceless."

The last statement drew a bit of the paladin's curiosity.

"How can you tell?"

"Frost freeze," replied Cayden. "They're completely encased in ice. Unless they've got a fire elemental hidden up their sleeves they're going to be there for a while."

"Great," Marcus happily stated. "Now we can actually get some useful information out of these guys. Can you melt just enough of the ice to get that bastard's lips moving?"

"Well of course –"

"Belay that!" Rayne interrupted. "I'm sorry Marcus but we're still working on assumptions at this point. If they have truly sent assassins after me, than I suspect the southern workshops will fall under similar attack. I would rather get them all incapacitated before we start asking questions. Did you get that Sam?"

"Clearly," the priest casually replied. "It is the most logical conclusion."

"Be on guard," ordered the paladin. "I know you're skilled but do not seek engagement. They may have something different prepared for us."

"Have no fear Rayne," Samuel stated seeming more bothered by the paladin's concerned. "Zariyana and I can handle ourselves. I find finishing this book more troubling than any meager assassin could offer. Are you sure this wasn't written in another language?"

The rest of the Templar Knights were surprisingly calm given the circumstances. Even in the thick of battle they remained cool and in control. Rayne was excited to know that he had chosen his team wisely but they were not out of the woods yet. There was still plenty to do.

"How are the walls coming? Are we ready to move onto phase three?"

"The structure's taken some heavy damage," replied the warrior in hefty breath mid swing. "But they're still standing."

"More Horde soldiers have taken the field. They are working their way around the flames and combating the demolishers directly. Zanneth's men have gone to engage," reported Cayden.

"Same on our end," Marcus commented. "They're looking desperate. I'm not sure how many are left within those walls but it can't be much if they're only sending out a scant few squads to deal with our vehicles."

Promising news aside, Rayne couldn't help for think of the worst case scenario in every situation. The paladin was expecting a bigger retaliation from Jean after their initial strike.

"Keep up the pressure and let's prepare to move into phase –"

Horrific cries echoed in the distance. Rayne didn't need his communications device to hear the deadly screams traveling across the battlefield.

"Marcus! Cayden! What's –"

"FALL BACK!" The warrior shouted. His tremendous desperation nearly shattered the device gently resting on the paladin's ear.

"Cayden!"

The screams were getting louder. His receiver was filled with voices pleading in sheer agony over the unknown torment succumbing their bodies.

"CAYDEN!" Rayne roared.

He desperately sought to hear the voice of his companion once more but only the muffled screams of soldiers came out the other end.


	24. Chapter 23

_Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

The orc violently grunted as the hardened steel gauntlets mercilessly collided with his exposed green jaw. His body slammed against the cold stone floor with a hideous thump. A wave of tremors shook the walls as another gross volley of boulders smashed upon their fortress.

"In all of my years I have never experienced such incompetence on the battlefield than this shell of a warrior laying before me."

Jean's fury was insurmountable. He continued to clench his already tightened fist almost as if he were trying to draw blood from it. Dardosh had cost them dearly and he so desperately wanted to watch the fallen orc pay.

"If it were not for the doctrine of war I abide by, I would have executed you here myself," cursed the blood elf.

The Vice-Commander could not have been luckier to be an orc on this day. The blood elves had a different way with dealing with insubordination on the battlefield. They had much more refined methods that involved investigations as well as trials to determine the direct cause and serve as a lesson to those watching. It was a rather shameful process for the guilty but provided some much needed motivation to succeed in their next operation. An orc wouldn't have wasted his breath. Dardosh would have already been dead three times over at this point.

"I will leave your fate to the Overlord. The look on his face as you explain your foolish actions will bring me more pleasure than dragging my blade across your neck. As of right now, I am relieving you of your command. You will take your place as a guard near the vault entrance under my direct watch. Is that understood?"

The orc panted as he pushed himself to his knees. He didn't give his superior even a small look of acknowledgement.

Air viciously sliced as the Commander brought his blade towards the kneeling orc. The tip stood hairs away from Dardosh's last remaining eye.

"Is. That. Clear?"

Venom poured from Jean's lips. This was not a threat nor a game. Should the orc be blatantly insubordinate to a direct superior while in the presence of his peers is grounds for immediate imprisonment. If there was one things the orcs did not care for, it was being locked up in cages once again.

"Yes," Dardosh dejectedly sighed.

"Yes, what?"

The orc knew full well what Jean was doing. Shaming him amongst his comrades in arms would further subjugate him to scrutiny during the rest of this military campaign. Given his former rank, they would also see it as a chance to increase their own standing by reporting any unscrupulous behavior or violations of orders.

"Yes Commander."

"Good," the blood elf arrogantly stated while sheathing his blade. "Now head to your position. I will be there momentarily."

"Yes Commander."

Dardosh moved with a weakened intensity. The tail between his legs may have gotten in the way of his usual stride. Once he was out of sight, the Commander continued.

"How is the battle fairing now Kilrath?"

The Tactical Officer appeared taken back by his superior's casual change of subject and subsequent return to a much calmer demeanor.

"Good Commander," the mag'har orc nodded. "The plague throwers have succeeded in driving the enemy back. They are retreating south past the northern workshops. Our vehicles are currently giving chase."

"Excellent," Jean stated. "Flood the workshops with bile. I don't want a single organism to take a breath within those walls without filling their lungs with the stench of death."

"Yes sir."

"And what of the demolishers? Have the flames calmed down enough to give our cannons sight of them?"

"Almost," Kilrath began. "The fire has subsided more towards the western and eastern ends. Our rockets have succeeded in disabling six of them thus far. However, these units have more armor than the previous wave. It is taking a bit longer than estimated to disable them."

Templar must have played his trump card early. The decoy units fell quickly as they appeared to have mechanical drivers instead of soldiers manning the controls. These were meant to specifically take down their walls instead of providing a distraction like the others.

"The walls will hold," Jean boldly replied. "They will not have the resources to continue if we persist with our current efforts. Do we have enough supplies to continue building plague throwers?"

"I believe so. Ten have already taken to the field. It will take a bit longer to produce an equal amount as we had previously prepared to build a variety of siege vehicles. Repurposing the parts is delaying the process."

"That's fine. We will continue to drive them back. If they make it past the first wave of vehicles we will just send another. And then another. And then another until the rotting carcasses of the Alliance are littering every inch of Wintergrasp."

Jean could feel his temper slipping. It was one thing to wage war against another opposing force in defense of your property. Wanting to turn a battle into a massacre was an entire new genre of warfare. The blood elf had no qualms about walking down that deadly path. He was eager to see just how the other paladin would respond to his overwhelmingly brutal strategy.

* * *

 _Eastspark Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp_

The paladin frantically scanned the battlefield. His goggles represented some of the finest work gnomish engineering had to offer but even they had their limits. Clouds of smoke slowly rose near the Sunken Ring further obscuring the view.

"Cayden!"

Every second that passed sent more dread into Rayne's heart. The mage had been silent for over a minute which continued to press upon his anxiety. This battle had taken an apparent turn for the worse and with no new information being delivered. All he could do was hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

A muffled snap entered the receiver. Through the loud cries in the background, Rayne focused in on a sole voice desperately trying to claw its way through the jumbled mess.

"-yne."

It was weak but the paladin could instantly recognize the sharp voice of his comrade pouring through the sounds of combat.

"Cayden!"

"Sorry Rayne. We had to retreat. The workshop has been –"

"That's fine Cayden. Are you and Narula alright."

"We're fine, thankfully. I was able to pull us out of their quickly but Zanneth's men have suffered heavy losses and the Horde is showing no signs of letting up."

It wasn't like Cayden or Narula for that matter to give up so easily. Something grave must have shown up in order to get the night elf to back off this easily.

"What is going on over there? What happened?!"

"They sent a mass of catapults against us armed with plague barrels. Before I could even process what was going on the first squad of soldiers were literally melting inside their armor. I tried calling the rest back but they just kept launching more and more at us. We tried stopping the barrels in midair but it all happened so quickly; Narula and I couldn't keep up."

The battle had taken a gross turn . Jean had decided to up the ante by using such a cruel and ruthless tactic. There was no need to kill off soldiers in such a way. It was unbecoming of a paladin to resort to these needless methods. The blood elf must have been desperate. Otherwise, he wouldn't dare launch such an appalling attack.

"It's fine Cayden. I'm glad you two are alright."

"We're just peachy here too boss. Thanks for asking."

"Marcus!" The paladin cheered. It was really good to hear his voice. "Is everything okay on your end?"

"Negative," the warrior groaned. "We had to abandon the workshop as well. The place is crawling with green plague. It's completely out of commission. And they're still coming after us."

"Dammit!"

None of the Knights had ever heard the paladin curse out loud. Throughout all of their time spent together, Rayne had been composed and calm when facing even the direst of challenges. The fact that he let his emotions slip for just a brief moment meant that their cool and collective leader was starting to crack. He couldn't let that fracture affect their morale. The time to think has long since passed. Action was needed now more than ever.

"Marcus, Cayden, order the demolishers to stop their attacks on the wall. Have them hunt and destroy every last catapult. We'll proceed with phase three immediately."

"Are you sure about that Rayne?" Marcus' inquisitiveness was abundant. "The walls took some heavy damage but I don't think they're ready for sieges just yet."

"I concur," added the mage. "It may be too risky to proceed as planned. Perhaps there is –"

"We can't wait," interrupted the paladin. "The Horde are trying to wipe us out man by man. The longer we hesitate means more of our brothers and sisters in arms will have to fall to that atrocious plague."

The receivers went silent. No one had any words to offer in response to Rayne's grim warning. He was absolutely right. The battle would be lost if they wavered any longer.

"So," the gnome asked in the background. "What are we going to do?"

The paladin took a deep breath. There was no turning back once the decision had been made. He only hoped that this would end the Horde's vile advance.

"We're going to have to begin Plan B."

It took only a second to relay the message to the other Knights. Marcus was having a bit more fun with it than everyone else.

"No!" Cried the gnome. "I thought you guys were just playing a joke on me. Anything but that!"

"We have no choice," Rayne pleaded. "Unless we halt production form their workshops they're just going to keep coming at us with more and more plague barrels until there is nothing left of us but a memory."

"The kid's right," Marcus added. "It's a sound plan and right now, our only shot at winning too."

"If this doesn't work Rayne, I promise to haunt you and your children, and your children's children for the rest of eternity!"

"I have faith in you Weasel," the paladin calmly stated. "All that I ask is that you put a little faith in me as well."

Silence filled the receiver. A few moments passed. Rayne took deep and calculated breaths just as he practiced during any routine meditation.

"I think he's giving you the okay boss," Marcus began. "We're on our way to your position now."

"Good. I'll begin the preparations. Sam and Zari, make your way to the Eastspark Workshop quickly. Cayden, you and Narula head south and prepare to move out with the second wave of siege engines."

"As you wish," Sam replied. "I estimate we shall arrive within the next three to five-hundred seconds depending on if we encounter any resistance."

"Narula and I en route as well," Cayden added.

Rayne immediately ran towards the workshop. The heavy slapping of his plate armor echoed into the surrounding landscape. A fleet of siege engines sat parked outside the nearby building. Chunky breaths of black smoke exited several stacks on the roof of the structure. He entered through the short set of bronze stairs leading towards the main hangar of the garage. Sitting atop a lone stool, the paladin's engineering mentor was hard at work manning the controls peering through the lenses of his engineering goggles while carefully crafting another siege vehicle.

"Findle!" Shouted the paladin. "We're shifting gears. We need to go with Plan B immediately!"

"Gah!" The gnome replied. "I nearly gave this thing a fifth wheel. You know better than to sneak up on a gnome when he's deep in focus."

"Sorry," Rayne panted, "but this is urgent. We need to switch phases at once. Is everything ready?"

"Of course it is," Findle replied jumping off his stool and heading for the main workshop bay. "I finished everything you asked for just before midnight. We're all set."

"Really?" The paladin was shocked to hear about the timely completion of his complicated request. "But I thought you were still working on it. If everything's done, what are you still doing here? There's a battle going on outside."

"Did you really think I was just going to abandon one of my closest friends while he puts his life on the line? How would I be able to go to work every day and still look at myself if anything happened to you? If there's something my tiny hands can tinker that can give you the advantage than blast it, I'm going to do it. I'm not leaving this building until every single one of these engines meets the Findle Whistlesteam Seal of Quality."

"Findle," the paladin smiled.

Words could not express the warmth that has touched his heart at this moment. Findle wasn't a combatant, a former soldier, or even a trained fighter. He was just an engineer with a lot of talent and a big heart.

"Thank you."

"Don't get all wishy-washy on me yet," the gnome waved. "Come here and take a look at what we've got."

Findle led the paladin towards the back of the garage. A large burlap cloth rested over familiarly shaped vehicle. The gnome quickly hustled and seized one end of the cover. With a quick tug he ripped the brown sheet down and revealed one of his proudest and finest works to date. All of the metal parts shined boldly. Every piece appeared to have been expertly carved by the most dedicated hands. A few extra plates of armor were furnished on the front and back ends. It looked just like his old bike and nothing like it at the same time.

"Behold! The Mekgineer Chopper 2.0!"

"Findle!" Rayne gasped. "You've completely outdone yourself."

"Outdone myself? Pssh, even Mekkatorque would bow down before this baby. This is the peak of engineering my boy. I've redone the entire frame with reinforced titansteel. The hide has been lightened a bit with cobalt plates so you can get up to speed quickly and, just as you've asked, I've even decked it out with a turbo booster. It uses a compound of nitrous and crystalized fire to launch the entire vehicle like a rocket. The stuff's expensive though and the tank was small so you only have enough juice for one hit before you have to stop and fill up again."

"This is incredible. I don't know what else to say."

"I'm not done yet," the gnome grinned. "Attached to the sidecar is all of the other stuff you requested. On top of the standard adventurer's kit included with every vehicle, I added one-hundred feet of silk rope. It's lighter and stretches more than the standard hemp variety. I also threw in a little something extra for an added kick. Just be careful to point it at the right target."

"And the explosives?"

Findle's grin grew even wider.

"Just like you wanted. Even that numbskull Marcus would be able to use this without blowing his hands off. It's remote triggered with a magnetic case. As soon as the device is armed, it instantly latches onto the structure. You'll need to blow the wall off the building to remove this bad boy. And I'd definitely stay clear when this goes off. It'll flatten a small keep let alone a tiny building like this."

"Excellent."

The paladin couldn't hold back his smile. He took the bike in his hands and walked it towards the garage exit. Even the handles felt sturdier and more vibrant in his gauntleted grip. He popped open the kickstand and let the bike rest a few feet before the large door.

"I'm going to wait for the others outside. They should be arriving any minute now."

"Just tell them to be careful driving these things," the gnome waved. "The last thing I need in my life is to perform maintenance during the middle of a battle."

"Will do," Rayne laughed. "I better get –"

"You're not going anywhere!"

A puff of smoke exploded behind the gnome. In its wake, a shadowy figure appeared. Thick sheets of black leather armor tightly wound against its muscular hide. He gripped the gnome high off the ground with a glowing purple dagger pressing against his neck. Deep red eyes surrounded by green skin stared back at the paladin.

"Let him go."

"Pretty pathetic for your last words," the orc taunted. "So long Templar."

Another billow of smoke erupted near Rayne's position. The air shifted heavily as the scent of ash began diving into his lungs. A second orc appeared lunging at him with a similarly shaped blade aimed right for his unprotected skull.

Metal cried out in hideous fashion. Bone and flesh collided with the reinforced plate of the Templar adorned steel shield. It smashed against the loosely armored skull of the orc. Bones crunched being unable to withstand the awesome power of the swing. A lowly groan echoed through the workshop as the would-be assassin collapsed on the ground in a defeated slump. They thought they had a distinct advantage catching the paladin and his companion completely off guard. Instead, he batted him off like a fly on a warm summer day.

"I said," Rayne stated. His foreboding tone was filled with the poison of hatred. "Let. Him. Go."

"You aren't going to kill me pretty-boy," stated the assassin. "Just as much as I know you're not going to try anything funny less I give this tiny ball of meat a nice new smile right below his chin."

"You underestimate my abilities," goaded the paladin.

"And you overestimate your position!" The orc hounded back. "Now drop your weapons and turn around slowly."

"You're making a grave mistake."

"Which is where I'll be sending you after eating your own words!"

"Oh yea," Findle gasped. He stuffed his hand through the exposed slit while crying, "Eat this!"

The orc's head detonated in a plume of blinding orange flames. Where his large skull once stood was now a mist of blood, vapor, and smoke. They both collapsed in a heaping pile just behind the final siege engine under construction.

"Findle!"

Rayne raced towards his fallen friend. He arrived to see the gnome coughing rather maniacally.

"Are you okay?! What –"

The paladin's words halted as he notices a sharp trickle of blood slowly coating Findle's clothing. His mind froze. The orc was still able to get a shot it before having his fill of a perfectly timed rocket.

"I'm fine," spat the gnome. "Just a scratch. Not as bad as big-mouth over here but at least I'll live."

Rayne knelt down to examine his friend's wound more closely.

"The blade may have been poisoned. Allow me."

A soft white glow filled the paladin's gauntlet. He carefully pressed his hand over the exposed wound. Light seeped into every damaged fiber and crack. He could sense it trickling through the gnome's blood and eradicating any foreign substance that would dare violate the sanctity of this precious fluid.

"You know, we've been working so much together on tinkers and projects that I sometimes forget you can do this cool stuff too," jested Findle.

"That should do it," smiled Rayne. "I would be careful with that wound though. It may be just a scratch but it will take some time to heal."

"I guess that's two I owe you," smiled the gnome. "One for the quick patchwork, the other for the pocket rocket."

"Findle, you don't own me –"

"Yes I do!"

Findle quickly stood up and turned around to face his taller companion. The paladin was a big taken back at how quickly the gnome snapped at him. He was pushed back to a standing position and lingered inches away from his newly crafted motorcycle.

"I may not be good with words but I at least owe you this," he began.

Little pools of water slowly crept within the corners of Findle's eyes.

"I've heard the rumors about you even before you walked through the door to my shop. And, of course, I believed them like anyone else. At first I thought you were a hopeless idiot. I only thought guys like you existed in fairy tales. But I've seen the fire in your eyes; the passion that you hold within your heart. I don't know how you do it but whenever you're around, I want to become better than I thought I could be. You're more than just a suit of armor or a gear-spinning engineer. Never be afraid of who you are. You are Rayne _frack'n_ Templar, the Light of Azeroth and the best friend that I've had since coming to this icy rock of a continent."

Moisture dried up instantaneously inside the paladin's throat. He had never heard the gnome speak so passionately about anything other than engineering or money. To think that his friend hid such feelings in his heart inspired Rayne to live up to those kind words. Narula was right. He had to prove himself worthy of the faith given to him by everyone, not just the Templar Knights, but the whole of Azeroth. They were crying out for a hero when one had been standing in front of their eyes the entire time.

"Now," the gnome winced while grasping the aching wound in his neck. "Go and take that fortress. Show the world just who the hell Rayne Templar is. Let them see the man through my eyes. You've got nothing to prove. All you need to do is just be yourself."

Rayne offered no words. There wasn't anything he could say that would top what Findle had just shared. He simply nodded and swung his leg over his bike. The seat felt wonderfully familiar as he wrapped his gauntlets around the handlebars. He firmly gripped the key between his thumb and index finger. With one gentle twist, the engine mightily howled throughout the hanger. The thundering roar erupted into a static drumming. Every moving part flowed perfectly within the hardened confines of the newly armored shell.

The bike exploded out of the hangar. A trail of grey smoke followed in its wake. It sailed in the air for a brief moment catching the freezing wind brushing against his exposed cheeks. The ground flinched nearly cracking underneath the immense power of the bike as it landed on the path at the foot of the rise.

"Rayne?!"

The paladin turned his attention to the voice calling out to him. It was difficult to hear anything over the constant humming of this magnificent mechanical beast but nothing could stop that squeaky high-pitched voice from grabbing his attention.

"Get in!"

Rayne tapped the small green button on the left handlebar. Gears cranked and steam puffed as the sidecar instantly folded out and created a comfortable pocket for his two companions.

"Nice ride," the warrior grinned while taking his place inside the extra seat. He stopped entirely when noticing there was some extra baggage on board.

"Whoa, what's all this fun stuff?"

"All a part of the plan," Rayne replied while loading a fresh white cartridge into his pyro launcher. "Make sure to hang on tight."

"Don't have to tell me twice," sneered the gnome.

The bike ripped through the snowy path. Wind cut across their bodies as they raced west the open trail. The increased speed and power within the paladin's tightened grip was incredible. His face dropped upon further inspection of their designated seating area.

"Where are the safety belts?"

"Safety belts?" Marcus laughed. "This is a bike, not a tank you poison-drinking pinhead!"

"Screw this!" Whined Weasel. "I'm just going to take this rope and –"

"Tie it to the bar on the back," ordered the paladin. "Do you have any throwing daggers?"

"Yea," the gnome inquisitively replied. "Wait, you're not asking me to –"

"Exactly."

The trio continued to blitz down the open path. They climbed up a short hill and immediately opened the view across the entire southern landscape. Every second counted. Rayne revved the engines and pushed the bike further than it's ever gone.

Terror poured through the lens of the paladin's googles. A skull-faced vehicle armed with an oozing green barrel gave chase to two figures clad in white robes. He flicked the lens setting and zoomed in to confirm his fears. Sam and Zari were desperately bolting towards their position. The aforementioned catapult carrying pure death was quickly gaining on them.

"Marcus!" Rayne snapped while returning the goggles to the threat-level assessment setting. "We've got company. Sam and Zari need our help."

"Hello!" Grinned the warrior.

Sitting on the bottom of the side car was an incredible feat of engineering. The barrel diameter was almost as thick as the head of his mace. A large red lens with targeting assistance sat on the top while a curved black handle arced underneath for added support and kick-resistance when held in both hands. He lifted the gun and promptly examined every inch of its expansive and refined features in closer detail.

"That's what I'm talking about," Marcus cheered. He aimed the massive cannon forward towards the approaching target. "Where have you been all my life?!"

The paladin slammed the horn. He hoped to catch the attention of the twin priests as they rapidly closed in. Marcus may have been at home with a mace in his hands but guns were a different story. One small misstep could turn their dear companions into cannon fodder.

Thankfully, the message was delivered loud and clear. Sam and Zari broke off from the main path and split into the northern and southern snow banks off to the side. That just left the bike going head to head against the harbinger of death with a fully loaded barrel of plague rot awaiting them. The catapult couldn't match the mekingeer's pure speed but with a properly placed projectile, it didn't have to. Neither one was willing to clear the way for the other. Rayne would have to make his own path.

"Fire!"

The rocket ripped through the barrel. Its kick sent Marcus flat on his ass back into the sidecar seat. He would have crushed the gnome if Weasel wasn't already leaning over the edge frantically tying the rope to the back of the bike as previously instructed.

Thick trails of smoke blew into the paladin's face. Thankfully, his goggles still projected an accurate display of the battlefield even with a cloud of black ash attempting to hinder his view. The projectile soared right into the skulls hideous grin. Its impact detonated in a colossal eruption of magnificent flames. Horrid cinders of the plague's deathly touch melted into the surrounding landscape. Wooden debris of the vicious vehicle's former self rained down from the sky as the bike blitzed through its charred remains.

"Burn in hell you bastard," mocked the warrior. "Got any more of those fun toys laying around here?"

"I'm afraid it's a one-time use only," Rayne replied. "The only ones left don't have nearly as an impressive kick."

The paladin aimed his gauntlet towards the center of the battlefield. He flicked his wrist down and launched the specialty flare high into the air. The bright explosion filled the sky with a familiar glowing red cross. He quickly reloaded the launcher with a standard flare. There was no telling when he would need to use this but he'd rather be prepared than sorry later.

They were rapidly approaching the center path. Speed was on their side but time and gravity were not. It was going to take some drastic measures to pull off a sharp turn of this magnitude. Thankfully Rayne had prepared for such an occasion.

"Now Weasel!"

A silver dagger launched from the gnome's hand. It carried the carefully tied silk rope on its back as it quickly embedded itself up to the hilt on a nearby tree. The rope snapped and straightened within seconds. Rayne tugged on the handlebars and veered right. The sidecar greatly hindered the bike's turning radius at this speed but it couldn't be helped. The paladin gritted his teeth and groaned while begging the vehicle to listen to his urgent commands. Tires screeched leaving trails of hot black rubber staining the ancient path.

Losing speed at this point was not an option. The delicate silk fibers of the rope had stretched to their utmost capacity. Gravity tugged at the paladin's body as the centripetal force swung the bike clean into the path with the grandiose fortress awaiting them in the distance.

"Hold on tight!"

With no one else impeding their efforts, Rayne slammed the turbo button and watched as the world around him turned into a giant blur.


	25. Chapter 24

_Central Bridge_

 _Wintergrasp_

"Com'on you dogs! Push'em back!"

Furious blows landed against the wall of shields. The Horde sent a squad of troops to secure this pathway but were met with a stubborn resistance of Templar soldiers. Lena's manic orders always motivated her troops in the right direction. Mostly to spare them from her wrath but these brave men and women were determined to keep their foothold of this path. It was a simple mission but one that couldn't be taken lightly.

All nine of her finest stood firmly side by side with their shields firmly planted into the ground. The path to the bridge was completely cut off. Horde soldiers tried as they might. Their monumental strength and savagery were no match for the Captain's determination and willpower. With every slap of heavy metal against the barrier their stamina depleted but their resolve remained firm. Nothing was getting past these men. Not a single soul.

"Captain!"

"Kind of busy here," she shouted underneath the massive blast of another strike against her shield. "What is it private?!"

"The signal!"

Lena's head darted upwards. Staring back down on her was the Templar cross is bright red lights. The last time she crossed paths with that image, the battle became a lot more interesting. She turned her gaze towards the southern part of the road. A golden bullet rapidly approached their position. Gigantic flames shot from the back of the speeding vehicle. If she had blinked only once, the Captain would have missed it entirely.

"Change formation now!"

The soldiers broke their line and collapsed into a two rows of five men each. Lena turned around as did the rest of the second line and slammed their shields down. They angled the long steel plates carefully. Each tip pointed just above the roof of the giant fortress in the distance. Their shoulders pressed together and steeled their stance as the roaring bike loomed just seconds ahead.

"Brace yourselves!"

A speeding train collided against their barrier. Lena pushed with every fiber of strength in her bones but even she was pushed back several inches. The shields skid across the ground leaving their hideous mark permanently marring this old path. They were driven into the backs and legs of the forward defensive team but everyone held their ground exactly as planned.

The sudden forceful burst left as quickly as it came. Its sound continued to echo just beyond their position.

"Back to formation!"

Though only seconds had passed, it was vital to return to their previous post. The Horde were unrelenting in their attacks and would have loved to capitalize on such a golden opportunity. All ten of them aligned themselves back to their previous places in a matter of seconds. Lena couldn't help but smile just a little bit knowing how well they were able to pull that move off. She looked just beyond the tip of her shield when suddenly, her jaw dropped.

Today was the day Captain Sherwood had seen it all. There may have been some moments inf the future that could rival this one. However, Lena would never forget the day she saw a motorcycle taking flight.

* * *

 _Wintergrasp Keep_

 _Wintergrasp_

The sun's rays cascaded throughout the inner walls. Lorelei could clearly see all of the inner workings and movements from her position now. She scanned all four sections of the fortress. The soldiers within continued their chaotic movements. It was surprising to see them continue to look so flustered after the attacks on their walls have ceased.

Emerald gave an exasperated sigh which briefly stole the young elf's attention. They had stationed themselves here all morning and traveled throughout most of the night. He was probably getting hungry and as much as she wanted to take care of her beloved tiger, Lorelei couldn't take her eyes off the fortress.

"It'll be okay boy," she calmed. "I just need to –"

Her breath halted as she caught a glimpse of a blonde-haired soldier wearing familiar black armor. He approached the vault doors just underneath where the young elf watched.

 _Jean!_

Lorelei was eternally relieved to find her brother was still alive. After that giant catastrophe that occurred outside of their gates, rampant stories ran wild within her imagination. She thanked anyone and everyone that would listen for keeping him alive. Confirming his safety was just one piece of the puzzle. The second one was still in question and now her heart thundered rapidly within her chest hoping to find a clear and hopeful answer as well.

A loud pop echoed in the sky. The young elf shifted her gaze and locked it upon a bright red cross in the distance. It forced the blood in her veins to grind to a complete halt. Her eyes widened and the air in her lungs completely deflated. She'd never forget that symbol. It belonged to _him_ after all.

Seconds after the unique firework went off, a unique vehicle took to the sky. It was embroidered with thin plates silver and gold armor. Three wheels continuously spun even though they currently had no traction on solid ground. It took shape quickly as it approached. There she locked eyes on the familiar silver goggles worn by the man who had stolen more than her attention on this day. The young elf's entire body went numb with sheer delight after verifying he too was alright. However, this feeling quickly turned to unbridled fear as its trajectory finally came into light.

The motorcycle cleared the first wall with ease and drew closer to the inner wall. Jean was already there and perhaps even waiting for him. She didn't want the two of them to meet like this. Days before they left as friends and by a horrific twist of fate, their blades would soon clash.

Lorelei struggled with her next plan of action. If she went down their now, it could be a major distraction for either of them. Rayne was at the inherent disadvantage diving directly into Horde controlled territory. Her presence could cost him more than just defeat if she wasn't careful. The only thing she could think to do was sit, watch, and pray that both of them had the wisdom to walk away from this encounter without needing to spill a drop of blood.

The young elf's naivety about war was all too abundant.

* * *

 _Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

"Take the bombs and plant them on the back wall of each workshop!"

The paladin's commands were difficult to convey against the soaring winds brushing up against them. His tone, however, was as clear as the day's sky.

"Get clear as soon as you can! These things pack a big punch."

"Roger!" They said simultaneously.

Weasel took one pouch and launched himself towards the east fortress workshop. The warrior followed in suit and jumped towards the west side of the keep. They each landed on the top of the wall as the motorcycle quickly began its descent. Rayne tugged the string near the collar of his armor. His cloak launched backwards and quickly expanded into a large parachute. This was just a simple tinker Findle had whipped up when they first got together but it was still one of the paladin's favorites.

The bike crashed to the ground. Had it not been for the reduced speed, it may require some field maintenance to get it running again. The engine still purred with a delectable power. Rayne pulled the second string and detached the parachute from his body. He stepped off the chopper and slowly approached the center. The golden cloak descended slowly and completely covered his prized vehicle.

Standing before the paladin was the final conquest of this mission. The vault doors were massive in size and held countless treasure and trinkets within its sealed gates. However, Rayne couldn't see passed the lone blood elf clad in black and red armor. Jean Starstrider casually stood and the base of the stairs surrounded by a squad of Horde soldiers and officers. This may have very well been a suicide mission but if anything, the paladin needed to keep them distracted while Weasel and Marcus took out their workshops.

"Raymond Templar," the blood elf called. "I see you wish to end this conflict immediately by challenging me personally."

Finding Jean was an unintended coincidence. The paladin hadn't been searching for him at all. He actually half expected him to be leading the charge with his other soldiers. Not one of his calculations had factored in meeting Jean on the battlefield. It wasn't because it was an unlikely scenario. Rayne was still uncertain about what to say or do should he find himself in the blood elf's presence once again.

Thankfully the goggles kept his emotions hidden from view. His lip tried to quiver not out of fear but due to the growing rage building within. Jean had unleashed a vile tactic that was unbecoming of a brother of the light. He had to keep this anger in check. Otherwise, they both would be blinded in battle and there is no telling what kind of damage they could do when they couldn't see each other.

"So, have you come to take this from me _as well_?"

Rayne's brow furrowed. He wasn't exactly sure what Jean was talking about. The blood elf approached with one hand on the hilt of his scabbard. Something told the paladin that if he wasn't sure why they called Starstrider _The Lightning Blade_ , he was about to find out.

There were no words Rayne wanted to exchange with the blood elf. He was still quelling the ferocity brimming within his soul. Jean had unleashed a plague of undeath on soldiers much like the horrific incident at the Wrathgate just a few weeks prior. It didn't matter if this was a game or war. Paladins had to be a guiding light to the rest of the world. Jean's actions were more reminiscent of another paladin; the first of them to fall and the reason why they're all on this damned ice-ridden continent.

The paladin drew his blade. This was no time for a conversation, friendly or otherwise. Jean had the look of a pure killer. He saw only one end to this conflict. Rayne was going to have his work cut out for him. Crossing blades with another paladin went against everything he was ever taught. However, there was only one way to get through to someone who had fallen off the path. Not even a fellow brother could be spared from the light's justice.

A whole new chapter awaited them. Rayne promised to show him a world free from this kind of needless bloodshed. It was a pity they had to get there in such a barbaric manner.

* * *

 _Western Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Marcus made it to the workshop with relative ease. Sure he had to take out a few languid sentries patrolling the inner wall but it made the endeavor all the more entertaining. He took the explosive out of the burlap bag and gave it a quick once over. The metal box was filled with all sorts of wires, gears, and a vile of glowing red liquid. Whatever was inside that thing, the warrior was hoping to steer completely clear of it when it was time to blow.

Dozens of catapults were outside of the workshop with another five sitting in the hangar ready to go. Rayne was right. The Horde were playing dirty. If they swept the battlefield with this fleet towing plague barrels, the battle was as good as lost.

The explosive snapped into place against the eastern wall. Rayne had assured him that it didn't matter where on the building he set it and that was all the instruction he needed. With the bomb in place, Marcus took the detonator from the bag and prepared to leave this Horde parade as quickly as he came.

A vile grip seized the warrior's throat. Its cold touch cut through his hardened skin and chilled him to the bone. The purple vice hurled Marcus airborne and back towards the center of this vastly open keep interior. His back slammed against the unforgiving stone ground. Air clung to his lungs before being violently ejected without warning. The warrior coughed through the pain as his eyes opened and caught a familiar looking mace hoping to crush his skull into a mound of soupy bone and flesh.

Stone exploded in a dusty mist of debris. Marcus rolled away from the initial attack and quickly found a way to his feet. He retrieved the trusty mace still slung across his back and faced the challenger that would dare openly attack him but not possess the skill nor intelligence to immediately finish what they started.

"You have a funny way of saying hello," jested the warrior. "I thought you tauren were supposed to be the noblest amongst the Horde. Seeing you in that gloomy get up with those glowing blue eyes tells me that you cows aren't so special after all. I'd cut my own head off before I let the Lich King _milk_ _me_ for all I'm worth."

A puff of cold air exited the tauren's dark lips.

"That's a lot of talk for a dog of the Alliance," he spat.

The echoing voice may have provoked fear from lesser opponents. To Marcus, it just seemed like there were two idiots talking simultaneously instead of one.

"Marcus Bloodblade at your service," the warrior mockingly bowed.

Marcus loved to get in his opponent's heads. He knew there was more to a fight than strength and skill alone. If he could get this beefy cow off his game for even just a second it would work to his great advantage and all it would cost him is a few gentle breaths.

"And what do your new masters call you? Or did they _calfstrate_ your sense of decency along with everything else?"

The tauren growled from within his black helm.

"My name is not worthy to give to such a barbaric ingrate."

"Suit yourself," Marcus shrugged. "I just wanted to give your buddy's a name because after I'm done with you, they're going to have a hard time identifying the body. If you want to spare yourself the embarrassment, you could always just step aside and let me finish my mission. Either way works for me."

The death knight tightened his grip on the mace and snarled viciously.

"You will choke on those words mongrel."

The warrior grinned widely.

"I knew you'd say that."

* * *

 _Eastern Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Sneaking into enemy territory was easier than Weasel thought. Given the gnome's size, shape, and choice of clothing, they would have an easier time finding a fart in the wind than this experience rogue. Weasel was already in the back of the workshop inconspicuous as always and setting the explosive as instructed. The magnet clung to the wall with relative ease. All he had to do now was remove himself as far away as he possibly could and find himself a good seat on the surrounding hills for when the fireworks go off.

The gnome took one long and delicious breath for another job well done. He casually made his way towards the eastern side of the workshop and maneuvered along the adjacent wall. The Horde soldiers were mostly concerned with the dealings outside the structure than within which made for the perfect getaway.

A line of wooden skulls greeted Weasel upon his exit. They had already amassed quite the counter-offensive. These machines were disgusting abominations like the foul creatures who came up with the idea. Death did not have to be long and painful. If you needed someone to die, there was no point in prolonging their pain. Everything leads to the inevitable end. Might as well make the trip as short as possible.

"I. See. You."

The hissing voice snapped the gnome's attention. A volley of black energy blitzed towards his small frame. Weasel dashed alongside of the wall. He flipped and tumbled over the leftover crates of ammunition as dozens of bolts crashed into boxes sending bits of wooden debris splintering into the air. The gnome continued to juke his way through the oncoming onslaught of fel magic before sliding behind a stack of weapon racks and locking eyes on his new opponent.

"Well, well, well," the forsaken hissed. "What do we have here? The Commander said we should be expecting company. I didn't expect to see an appetizer show up before the main course."

His revolting laughter cut right down to the gnome's tiny bones. He hated the undead's voice almost as much as that disgusting grin on his face. Whether that last comment was a joke about his size or fighting prowess didn't bother Weasel. The violet-robed monster would pay for it either way.

"I am Ulrick Cursesong," the warlock stated. "I always like for my future victims to be absolutely certain who it was that brought them their demise."

"Cursesong?" Weasel's eyebrow slowly rose. It quickly dropped as his brow crumpled in anger. "The Butcher of Telredor?"

"I'm happy to see my reputation has made it all the way out to Gnomeregan. Though I'm surprised to find someone of your stature standing before me now. Tell me, did you have any friends in that dreadfully boring town? Is that why you've come before me today? To get your revenge?"

That tragic even lived in infamy amongst the Alliance Expedition. Telredor was said to be an impregnable fortress. Though its citizens were nearly starved for food, there was no way anyone could have just waltzed in there and slaughtered hundreds. Whether he bribed one of the citizens with some food or blackmailed someone else to let him in may forever remain locked in mystery.

"Not exactly," shrugged the gnome.

He walked past the thin barrier of pikes, axes, and polearms to greet the talkative forsaken on a more personal level.

"The thing about being an assassin is, you need to have the proper motivation. If we just ran around and killed anyone that pissed us off, we would be no better than the beasts or monsters we fight every day. What separates us from them is _purpose_."

Weasel dusted off the remaining splinters and wooden debris bits on his black leather armor has he slowly made his approach.

"You see, when I heard about what you did I may have been a little fired up, not gonna lie. However, I knew at the end of the day, there was absolutely nothing I could do about it."

"Oh yea?" Ulrick smirked. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm an _assassin_ ; a good one at that. I don't just kill anyone willy-nilly. It's not a sport or a game to me. Killing is my _job_ , my _life_ , and I'm very good at what I do. In order to utilize my skills, you're going to need to pay me a lot of money."

"So that's why you didn't come after me?" Teased the forsaken almost bursting into laughter. "Because the Alliance couldn't afford your hefty fee as an elite killer?"

"No," the gnome calmly stated. "The reason why I never came after you because once I heard about what you did, I wouldn't take any one's gold to kill you."

Weasel slowly raised his hand and pointed his finger towards the foresaken with an ominous glare.

"I promised to do you for free. The second I crossed that line I would no longer be an assassin. I would become you."

"Is that so?" Cursesong laughed. "Maybe that's not such a bad thing. Tell me, are you still willing to follow your code now that I'm standing before you?"

"Absolutely," smiled Weasel. "I'm out here on a job actually. My boss needs me to take out that building behind you. He's an honest guy, not really you're type I suppose, but needs people like me to cross lines that he won't."

Weasel took a breath while casually looking away unconcerned with the looming threat before him.

"I'm merely doing him a favor. The fact that I have to get through you in order to do so is an added bonus."

"You humor me greatly gnome," the forsaken replied. "I will enjoy watching you writhe in agony. Who knows? After this, I may make you one of my pets as well."

Ulrick snapped his rotting fingers. A runic circle appeared on the ground glowing with powerful violet energy. From within the void, a foul red-scaled demon took shape. It had four legs with claws for feet and two protruding bones sharpened like spears upon its back. Dozens of fangs sat upon its wide maw. The creature snarled viciously in the direction of the gnome.

"Gaazhom," the warlock wickedly grinned. "Dinner's ready."

* * *

 _Inner Walld_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Uncontrollable fury swelled before the blood elf's eyes. Standing before him was the man who had turned from savior to rival in such a trivial period of time. Templar was poised to take everything away from him. The wretched human had already swooned his beloved little sister. She was the only thing that Jean held dear in the entirety of this cruel and unfair world. Now he sought to steal away the one thing that defined him. The blood elf may be unable to control his sister's emotions but there was no way in hell he would allow that man to best him in combat.

"Let me handle this one for you Commander."

Jean didn't even bother to acknowledge the orc's words let alone his presence. His eyes were locked on the gold and silver armored frame of the only other paladin within these walls.

"Stand down Dardosh," the Commander ordered. "You have embarrassed me enough already. Take your place along the inner wall and ensure our defenses hold firm. I will deal with this _fiend_ myself."

The orc let out a defeated grunt before backing off as told. Jean knew that Dardosh was merely trying to save face at this point. He had already been humiliated twice before his own men. The only way to earn their respect back is by accomplishing a grand feat of strength. His enthusiasm was duly noted but it would still not forgive his previous actions that put this entire fortress in jeopardy. The former Vice-Commander would get what was coming to him in due time. He would have to wait until Templar got his.

Jean proceeded slowly towards the center of the sullen fortress interior to meet his new adversary. The sounds of battle were still erupting from all sides. Faint cries of soldiers echoed in the distance. This was war after all. Everyone had to fight for what they truly wanted. No one knew that greater than the Commander. Someone that was born with a silver spoon in their mouth would never know the hardships of those that had to scrape for everything they could in order to survive until tomorrow.

Steel sliced in a quick shriek as Jean removed his blade from the scabbard. It was almost harmonious in nature. This was the last remaining remnant of the Starstrider legacy. His parents had bequeathed this sword to him upon departing to aid the humans in their war against the orcish horde. It featured a bright yellow gem in the center of the hilt surrounded by intricately carved red steel that carried the gleaming mithril blade. This was meant to depict an image of the sun. Jean's father and his grandparents before him had always said the sun was nothing more than a giant star which is how they derived their name in ancient times long since passed.

The two warriors met in the center. They were no more than a scant few feet apart from one another. Jean's curiosity slowly increased. He had anticipated the paladin would attempt to voice his concern or perhaps even illicit a conversation to seek a mutual resolution without bloodshed. The fact that the human decided to forgo any negotiations was welcomed as the blood elf would rather let his blade do the talking but it did strike him as odd. The man standing before him did not appear to be the same bumbling hero with a grandiose yet hopeless optimistic view of the world. Templar was grounded, stoic, and much more serious this time around.

However, a minor change in attitude would not save him from his inevitable fate. The human had apparently ditched the mace for a uniquely shaped sword of his own. It would make things a little more sporting this way since there wasn't a whole lot a hammer could do to stop a wave of sharpened steel slashing through the air. If Templar wanted a fight, he sure as hell found the most willing opponent.

Jean exploded from the previously unguarded stance. He dragged his blade towards the human. The only thing left plaguing his mind was trying to cope with his sister's inevitable sadness after the battle had ended.


	26. Chapter 25

_Western Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Steel collided against steel with a thunderous crack. The velocity of each weapon sent shockwaves of vicious air exploding from the point of impact. Marcus traded blows with death knight but pound for pound, it appears they were evenly matched at the onset. Every furious swing was met with an equally impressive block or parry. The warrior was more mesmerized with the tauren's skill than strength at this point.

An incredible wave of stinging wind brushed against Marcus' neck as he ducked underneath another heavy swing from his opponent. They had only just begun this encounter but it already looked like the giant cow was getting flustered. This was exactly what he had hoped would happen as they engaged in battle but the stinging nerves in his hands requested a more peaceful resolution.

The titansteel mace cut upwards. Marcus spun the ram-shaped head towards the tauren's exposed chin but pulled back just enough to set up the next devastating attack. Feints were useful with throwing opponents off balance. With his mace already high in the air, it gave him room to build up momentum and drive a massive swing against the previously flustered target.

Marcus roared as he followed through with the next attack. The mace swung in a devastating two-hundred and seventy degree arc. His eyes were the first to arrive at the target destination and widened just before his body finished the spin. The tauren had not only anticipated this widened strike but delivered one of his own. He barely had time to think let alone duck. The warrior caught the head of the mace in his free arm and created a small barrier hoping to catch the weapon before it struck his unarmored chest.

The hideous crunch of steel vibrated throughout the warrior's core. His opponent's immense strength drove Marcus clean backwards. The hardened leather soles of his boots skid across the clean stone floor for what felt like miles. His body came to a vicious stop against the inner wall. Tremors erupted from the site of the blast shaking the entire foundation of the fortress. The devastating swing left a monumental human-sized dent in its wake.

Stone cracked and split as the warrior pushed himself off the freshly created cavity. The nerves in his back howled in urgent need to attention. Taking the walls down was part of his initial mission but his body was not nearly as effective as one of those boulders outside. The impact nearly sent his internal organs through a whirlpool and his body was just finally catching up.

The warrior let out an infuriated cough. It's been a long time since he's faced a capable challenger. The tauren must have had experience in combat arenas prior to becoming the Lich King's pawn. Whether the undead creature chose to abstain from using the chilling powers afforded to his kind or simply repressed them didn't concern Marcus much. It didn't matter who you were on the outside. Everyone was on equal footing lying on their backs.

Dreadful black and purple energy erupted from the death knight's mace. It cracked like lightning. Individual bolts struck the ground and singed the stone immediately upon impact. The vile bolts spewed from the tip and began scanning around the battlefield. They struck some of the recently made corpses that Marcus' littered along the way to the workshop. Their bodies exploded in a grotesque mist of blood and flesh.

A new breed of soldiers arose from the sight of the blast. Their grey skin reeked of death and rotted in large patches. Sharped bone claws replaced their hands. A tuft of white hair sat atop their head and outlined their moronic grins that had three inch fangs rising from their bottom jaws.

Marcus spat as he barreled forward. Where he once thought this would be a single combat encounter, the death knight proved to be both a cunning and intelligent adversary. He was no longer fighting one opponent but an army of the tauren's vicious ghouls. All Rayne asked him to do was blow up a single workshop.

Things were never that easy.

* * *

 _Eastern Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

The felhound snapped its toothy jaws in feverish hunger. Weasel was able to drive it back with a pair of quick swipes of his daggers but contending with this beast and the continued harassment of fel magic being shot out by the forsaken was drawing on his rapidly depleting stamina. The demonic creature seemed to be unfazed by the threat of death as every one of the gnome's strikes drew closer and closer to his lightly armored hide.

There was no way he could win this battle fighting on two fronts. His attuned battle senses dictated that he should deal with the most immediate threat in melee range before tackling the other attacking from ranged. Someone like Cursesong might be anticipate such a tactic so Weasel opted for a more sly approach to the problem.

The gnome quickly sheathed his daggers into the side scabbards. Whips of stinking spit oozed from the felhounds hungering lips. The creature reared back and prepared to deliver a lunging bite. This is just what Weasel was hoping for. The felhound launched forward with its dreadful jaw wide open. It craved the sweet taste of flesh as it inched closer with every passing moment.

Weasel leapt into the air. He planted his left hand atop the felhound's monstrous skull and used it as a springboard to launch his counter-attack. In the blink of an eye, the gnome procured a handful of throwing knives in his free hand. The volley of silver blades launched with a maddening velocity. Each dagger had been precisely targeted to strike the warlock in key areas to completely disable his casting prowess. Even with the threat of death looming right in the palm of his tiny hand, Weasel was still a master of assassination.

The blades arrived at their destination and harmlessly clattered on the ground. Gentle pings of metal sang into the air as they came to a complete stop near Cursesong's feet. The forsaken replied with a wide grin. He had completely batted off the rush of daggers with a simple brush of his cloak. The threat of death hadn't even registered.

"Is that all you've got?" Laughed the warlock. "I sincerely hope you can do better than that."

The felhound yelped as its jaw smashed into the ground. Weasel pushed himself off the creature and sought cover by a nearby pile of crates. He routed the quickest pattern to get in range of the forsaken without exposing himself. That would prove to be quite the challenge. Warlocks were especially adept and finding invisible targets. The gnome had something special in store to take care of Cursesong's wandering eyes once again.

* * *

 _Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Jean's furious strike clashed against the paladin's shield. The blood elf's speed was indescribable. It was as if Rayne was being attacked by malicious gusts of wind. Finding an opening in his offense was proving to be a futile task due to the paladin having trouble finding even Jean himself.

Swords met in a brutal crash. Rayne had just caught the swing of his opponent looming upwards. Unlike the previous attacks, the blood elf pressed his greatsword against the paladin's blade driving it closer and closer to his neck.

"You disappoint me Templar," hissed Jean. "I am beginning to think the rumors of your follies as a true testament to your abilities."

Taunting during the middle of a fight did not seem like it was Jean's style. He was much more refined and elegant. His wave of initial attacks confirmed that. Something was amiss. The words he spoke reeked of malice. He didn't say them to annoy the paladin. The blood elf was trying to hurt him with more than just his blade.

Rayne relaxed his muscles and immediately ducked as the follow through slash cut into the air that his neck once occupied. The rumors were definitely true. Jean was in a class of his own when it came to fighting prowess. He handled the two-handed weapon as if it were a pure extension of his body. The nickname he earned was almost an understatement.

Dust exploded from the blood elf's boots as he dashed in to resume his onslaught. Yellow light sparked from the corners of his eyes. Jean was tapping into the blessed powers of the light for added strength and guidance. Every attack caught the brunt end of Rayne's shield or slapped the sharpened edge of the red sword.

The blood elf clenched his teeth. His frustrations were beginning to show. The paladin didn't expect Jean to put up quite the offensive. In turn, Rayne was probably better with a shield than anyone the blood elf had ever faced. As much as the sword was a part of Jean's body, the paladin's shield was core to everything that the light had ever gifted to him.

More bursts of light exploded from Jean's blade. With each strike a marvelous clap of lightning struck the paladin's bulwark. A nagging itch clawed at Rayne's attention. Paladins were not supposed to be taking up arms against one another. It didn't matter which faction they called home; they all served the golden presence of the light.

Jean reared his sword back and quickly thrust it forward at Rayne's chest. The paladin shifted his stance to the left and stepped forward into the strike. Metal cried as the sharpened edge ate a good chunk of back plate armor. It stung pretty badly but not as much if the blade had caught its intended target. The blood elf was still pressing the extended stab as Rayne finished the move and smashed the hilt of his sword into Jean's spine.

Metal cracked in defiance. The paladin took a few steps forward to give himself a moment to breath. He quickly turned to face his opponent when he saw nothing but empty space. An alert from his goggles directed his eyes upward. Jean was airborne. He carried his greatsword high above his head and prepared to drive it downward into Rayne's unarmored skull. The blood elf was beyond amazing. He led his opponent to believe he was at a disadvantage when in reality, utilized this moment to gain an edge on this battle.

Sparks flew as the sword impacted the paladin's raised shield. Jean continued to press his weight downward. Light shined throughout his elevated body. He was hoping to use the channeled energy to deliver judgment. Rayne knew that blessed ability all too well. The blood elf may be his superior in sword skills and combat but the one thing he lacked was the paladin's pure strength.

Rayne's lungs roared. Golden rays of light shined within the steel barrier. The shield exploded forth and drove the blood elf back into the air from whence he came. Jean flew ten yards away from elegantly flipping and landing upon his feet. The paladin regretted utilizing some of his inherent talents granted to him by the light but he was not about to let Jean take his life so easily. They each held something dear to them they desired to protect. Rayne couldn't die here today when so many people still depended upon him.

* * *

 _Western Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Marcus flexed his biceps. He let out a ferocious shout as he launched the mace in a continuous three-hundred and sixty degree swing. The heavy head of the weapon dragged the warrior's body across the field in a violent tornado. This attack was more fitting and destructive with a large sword or polearm in his hands but for the purposes of this battle, the titansteel forged club was more than adequate.

The ghouls surrounded the death knight. They hadn't fully risen from the shells of the fallen warriors before Marcus launched his counter-attack but that was exactly what he was hoping for. Their rotting carcasses would be just the distraction he needed to send the tauren reeling and finish up this mission quickly. As soon as he came within range, the ghouls lunged forward with their salivating maws hungry from muscular flesh.

Bones snapped against the mighty spin of the warrior's mace. Heads exploded in a wave of blood and sinew. Streaks of rotting juices sprayed maniacally throughout the fortress. The tornado of fury severed the ghouls skulls clean off their bodies. A few of the heads that remained partially intact still carried that terrifying toothy grin as their second chance at life had been abruptly ended before they could even bask in the morning air.

Leather screeched to a wicked halt. The warrior's feet planted across the stone surface. Marcus continued to follow through on the attack driven by the weight of the head but held his stance firm. He swung the mace like a giant bat through the still floating bodies of the ghouls and crushed the death knight's ribs at the peak of the blow. The force continued to push as the tauren's bulky frame sadistically launched backwards into the air. It collided against the workshop with a horrific thud.

The death knight's mace dropped from the sky and bounced to a quick stop just several feet behind the warrior. His body collapsed in a heap just below the massive indentation created by the warrior into the reinforced steel wall. It was an eye for an eye as far as Marcus was concerned or in this case, a dent for a dent. The tauren put up a decent resistance but he was obviously out-matched by the warrior's experience and knowledge. Now all he had to do was find the quickest exit out of this place and finish the job.

A set of stairs leading towards the upper portion of the wall called out to Marcus. He could easier take those up and jump down outside where his other friends would surely be waiting with a squad of siege engines at his disposal. The warrior was so happy to see the end in sight he failed to notice the tauren slowly returning to his feet and drawing the dual runic longblades hanging from his waist.

* * *

 _Eastern Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

"Where did you – ?!"

The warlock's question was silenced as he shrieked out in agony. His terrifying squeals were music to Weasel's ears. All it took was a bit of crushed black lotus buds and you had the world's most effective blinding agent. He tossed the small cloud of white spores directly into the glowing eyes of the maniacal forsaken and watched him writhe in agony. Cursesong continued to apply pressure into the effective area. It was a natural reaction of course but probably the single worst thing you could do when a foreign agent enters your eyes.

Jaws snapped at the gnome once more. He still had to contend with this mangy beast. Weasel hopped over the felhound's wild bites. He used the two protruding bones on its back to guide him to the perfect seating position. While holding onto the dangerous extremities, the gnome gently squeezed the ribs of the beast with his legs.

"Giddy up!"

The felhound snarled as it raced ahead. Every step it took was manic and clumsy. He tried to frantically eject the tiny creature on its back but Weasel was going nowhere. This thing has been a pain in the gnome's ass and before he sent it back to the hellish plane it came from, he was going to have some fun humiliating it first. If only Cursesong could see him now.

Weasel quickly retrieved his dagger. The blade spun in his hand and was caught by the hilt before drilling it cleanly through the felhound's spine. It yelped in pain sounding more like a little lamb than the fear mongering demon it claimed to be. The gnome dragged the blade across its back ensuring every tendon and connection was severed. All four legs stopped moving and immediately collapsed upon its belly.

The beast continued howling in misery. Its disgusting blood began spewing out of the two-foot gash freshly carved in its back. Weasel quickly flipped forward while pulling out one of his favorite little explosive devices from the side pouch.

"Now shut up," the gnome grinned while stuffing the felhound's mouth with a saronite bomb.

He snapped his thumb and index finger conveniently laced with flint and steel. The spark of flame ignited the explosive and prepared it for detonation.

Muffled shouts continued to press through small cracks. Weasel jumped to behind the demon and seized its tail with both hands. He began dragging its whining carcass in a circle until speed and centripetal force lifted it up into a full blown spin.

The gnome released the felhound upon reaching maximum velocity. Its miserable whimpers trailed in the distance.

"I'll skin your hide for –!"

The warlock's meager taunt was cut off by his tormenting grunt as felhound brutally collided into his midsection. Its devastating weight increased by the violent throw drove the forsaken backwards and reeling towards the ground. Just before he could taste the sweet sanctity of the stone surface, the saronite bomb erupted in a hail of flames. A cloud of black smoke quickly formed at the blast site. The forsaken's body crashed lifelessly into a pile of previously smashed debris. Bits of felhound rained from the skies.

Weasel couldn't help but laugh. He could see the headlines of the story in his head. The almighty Ulrik Cursesong _hounded_ for blood but became _felled_ by his own creation.

* * *

 _Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Blades continued to feverishly clash in front the vault entrance. Jean pressed his attacks harder and faster but grounded to a stubborn halt at nearly every turn. No matter how hard he tried, Templar had an answer for every attack. This would soon turn into a war of attrition and the blood elf wasn't confident which side would wane first.

Something was off about the paladin's game. Though he showed little issues defending against Jean's offensive volley there was a glaring hole in this encounter. Rayne was not capitalizing nor returning any offense of his own save for that trite attempt to throw the blood elf off balance. It wasn't as if Jean's own attacks would open himself up for such an opportunity but the fact that the paladin wasn't even taking that risk annoyed him more than anything.

"Why don't you fight me more seriously?!"

Their blades met at center mass. Jean grunted as he pressed his sword forward against his opponent's. They scraped along the sharp surface while both combatants stared directly into the other's eyes.

"As if I could ever do that," howled Rayne.

The combatants pushed off one another and leapt backwards creating a wide gap between them. Jean was not amused with the paladin's response. As he resumed his battle stance, the blood elf prepared to probe even further.

"And why not?"

Swords briefly clapped together. The resounding shriek was powerful enough to shatter glass that dared to wander too close.

"Because we shouldn't be doing this," Rayne replied. His brow continued to tighten as their swords clashed once again. "We're not dogs of war. We're paladins! The Scourge is our enemy. Not each other!"

"Foolish dreamer!"

Energy exploded from the site of another relentless slash. Jean could feel the tension swelling within his soul. Rayne may have drawn his ire from the stunt he pulled earlier but now he was getting the blood elf's full blown wrath.

"You hide behind a mass of technology within your eyes and yet you cannot even see what's right in front of you!"

Another devastating slash ripped through the shield's exterior.

"Your words are that of a naïve child. Everyone is born on one side of the fence. We cannot simply wish for the wall to come down. If you strive for peace, than you better prepare for war!"

Rayne pushed against a vicious downward strike. The blood elf's greaves skid across the ground kicking up small clouds of dirt

"That's not why I'm doing this."

The paladin received Jean's anger but was quickly drawing upon his curiosity as well. He took two quick steps in while preparing to resume his onslaught of attacks.

"Then what is your reason?"

The red cross adorned on the paladin's shield greeted him once more. Just above the crest, Jean could still see the glowing yellow lenses shielding Rayne's eyes from the world but still locked on the blood elf's.

"I can't in good conscious lose myself in the heat of battle. If something were to happen to you," the paladin began, "Lorelei would be devastated."

The blood elf's eyes went wide. He immediately feinted a forward thrust with the blade in his right hand. Rayne turned and caught the slash against his shield just as Jean had hoped. He drove his left fist into the unguarded paladin's jaw. The human was sent reeling but surprisingly did not fall on his back despite the furious anger guiding that punch.

After all they had been through: drinking tea, sharing stories, and trading blows that uncouth man would dare bring up the one thing Jean never wanted to discuss with anyone let alone _him_.

"Don't you dare utter that name in front of me!" The blood elf spat. "I don't want to hear _her_ name coming from you!"


	27. Chapter 26

_Western Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Marcus ran towards the western wall. The icy touch of the continent was starting to get him. His skin shivered as tiny beads of sweat began freezing over. The warrior did not remember it being this cold a few minutes ago. It was especially chilling near the workshop which was becoming further and further distanced. Something in his nerves told him to turn around. It was a classic soldier's intuition.

The mace rapidly swung and caught two incoming attacks from separate longblades. Their misty blue aura was heightened by the shimmering runes written along the flat. Marcus gritted and grunted heavily against the ongoing pressure being forced upon him. The tauren had already proven his worth in the strength department; now his cunning nature was finally coming to light.

Muscles began quivering underneath his opponent's ominous strength. The warrior knew he could not stay locked in this contest for long but it was the only thing he could do to take the upper hand away from the death knight. His mace may be capable in combat against another similar weapon or larger but facing two smaller weapons from an obviously strong opponent spelt doom for his defenses.

Metal snapped as the combatants pushed off one another. Marcus took a big leap backwards and prepared himself for the incoming slew of swift strikes from the retaliating tauren. His grip tightened nearly ripping the leather straps keeping the handle bound.

The death knight blitzed forward. His blades swung quickly and cut against the mightily forged titansteel mace. The warrior tried to knock away each sword following through with his massive power but it was match for the tauren's own strength and speed. No amount of parrying could keep up with this whizzing onslaught of runic might.

Blood puked from the freshly carved wound in Marcus' exposed ribcage. He loudly cursed to help contend with the newly stinging blow. Another howling slash cut between the stretched plates in his leggings driving the warrior to his knee. Two more incoming attacks came down swiftly in a malicious cross-shaped pattern. Marcus easily batted one off sending the longblade back from whence it came but the second cut clean into the hardened skin across his chest. More of his precious fluids began pouring through his skin.

The tauren took his free hand and pointed the open palm towards the warrior. A mass of chilling blue light began swelling within. The death knight unleashed the chilling blast of frozen wind. It struck the warrior with the speed and power of freight train, driving him several yards backwards across the unforgiving stone floor.

Tiny bits of debris scratched Marcus' hide as his skin came to a vicious halt. Pain wrought his body. He hadn't felt such agony since the old days during the first two wars. Though, he was much younger and inexperienced, one never forgets the sting of battle. There was so much learned from those hard fought bouts. Familiar memories started running rampant. As he stared up into the bright blue sky above a small tinge of flame began to bellow. He hadn't felt such a powerful sensation in ages. Enemies rarely got to see this side of him but when they did, it was usually their last.

There was no need to hold back anymore. It was finally time to cut loose. The tauren may be skilled but it would soon have to contend with the furious anger of Marcus Bloodblade.

* * *

 _Eastern Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Hideous bolts of shadow energy launched from the forsaken's crash site. These were unlike the previous volley. Each deadly volley was wild and uncoordinated. Their aim may have been off but each ball of darkness exploded upon impact sending a wave of vehement force ripping through the air and anyone that would dare stand in its wake.

Weasel quickly picked up his speed and started tumbling through the fel-driven assault. Cursesong was already annoying when his mood was calm but when driven mad he proved to be an unimaginable pain in the ass. The gnome had hoped the explosive would have been enough to put the warlock out of commission. That blasted felhound must have absorbed most of the detonation. Most forsaken wouldn't have been able to stand up to this blast. This one appeared to be much more resilient.

A dome of black energy ripped against Weasel's right side. His leather armor shrieked as it tore against the residual impact of the blast. The dark magic singed his newly exposed skin. It burned with unbridled anguish the likes of which no amount of ice could calm. It was a grim reminder not to be caught directly by one of those deadly bolts.

The gnome turned his head and caught the warlock standing amidst the wreckage his body had caused. He zealously hurled all of the dark energy he could instantly summon at a frantic pace. The look of discontent staining his brow was glorious but only fueled the forsaken's ongoing offense.

Two bolts whizzed past Weasel's shoulders. The radiant energy burned but thankfully did not further damage his armor. They exploded just beyond the gnome's path. He jumped into the air to avoid the lingering impact.

A howling cry echoed from behind. Weasel barely caught the horrific image of a maniacal green skull roaring towards him before striking his exposed backside. Gruesome shrieks ripped through the gnome's throat. The terrifying burn previously experience was magnified tenfold as his entire back burned in a glorious blaze of fel flames.

The gnome collided face first on the cold hard surface. His ongoing velocity sent his body tumbling violently forward in a mass of unstoppable spins. It finally came to a punishing halt buried within a familiar set of wooden crates.

Painful breaths hissed out of Weasel's lungs. This terrifying feeling was unfamiliar to the gnome. All of his jobs and assignments required the utmost precision and discretion. Being caught in the act was the first step towards any assassin's demise. Weasel had quickly learned the most effective way to complete any assignment unscathed was to simply excel at remaining in the shadows; out of sight and out of mind.

Unfortunately, that strategy would not work with Cursesong. He was too intelligent for his own good, not that the gnome would ever admit it to his face directly. The fact that the warlock was able to outwit him amidst his own rage was a testament to that. It was almost as if he were expecting Weasel to attack him from indirect angles and had fully prepared for any contingencies. Maybe that's why he was able to quickly recover from the blinding dust and ready to launch a brutal counter-attack.

The only way Weasel would win this battle was by out-thinking and out-smarting his opponent. In order to do that, he would have to throw the forsaken's mind in disarray. That meant he would have to violate the one credo that has kept his head attached to his neck for many, many years.

* * *

 _Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

The paladin had finally found the blood elf's button. He had no intention of getting him riled up during this encounter but this entire battle had been plagued by unfortunate and unforeseen circumstances. Whether or not it would be an aid or detriment in this ongoing confrontation was yet to be seen.

Jean's current attitude was definitely odd. Back in Silvermoon, he seemed so refined, focused and in control. Now his eyes burned with a hysterical passion. It wasn't that long ago he was calling Rayne a savior. Something must have happened between now and then that set the blood elf down this enraged path. Lorelei's behavior in Findle's shop was peculiar as well. Perhaps the events are related in some way. Any attempted probing of the matter required the utmost caution. Curiosity did kill the cat after all.

"You know I'm right," declared the paladin. "Otherwise, you wouldn't defend her so passionately."

"I said shut up!"

The blood elf's greatsword smashed into the paladin's shield. This strike was unlike any of the others. It didn't carry the same finesse or skill. Jean had put nothing but fury into his attack and the evidence was obvious. Every swing was well documented unlike the previously blurry variety that depleted Rayne's eye stamina. They may be different than attacks prior but what they lacked in speed they made up for in raw power.

"Do you think this is what she wants?!" Howled Rayne as he pushed back one of the oncoming swings with his shield. He delivered a wide swipe of his own that scraped the edge of Jean's blade while shouting, "To see us fighting like this?!"

"It doesn't matter what she _wants_!"

The blood elf's blows grew more powerful with every blood-curdling strike.

"She is a child. The world would have destroyed her ages ago had it not been for me!"

Rayne's shield was taking a pounding. He couldn't find any leverage to dig his sword in for a parry and take the stress away from his left arm that was slowly being worn out.

"All you've done is fostered a rebellion. You've taken the one thing away from her that we all receive by birthright."

The paladin planted his stance. He immediately pushed through the attack clipping the shield at center mass. Rayne lifted his sword across his chest and swung it in a colossal one-hundred and eighty degree arc.

"What's the point of living if you're not allowed to live?!"

The blow rocked Jean's defenses. For the first time in the encounter, the blood elf was actually driven back by his own volition. His teeth clenched. Venom pushed through every painful breath as he rushed forward to resume his vicious flurry.

"And what would someone born with a silver spoon in their mouth know about our hardships?!"

The critical attack knocked Rayne off his planted stance. A rapidly delivered follow up swing cut through the cracks of plate armor and dug into the flesh of his left leg.

"All of our suffering!" Jean spat as he delivered another vile swing. "All of our misery!"

More heavy slashes cut against the paladin's shield driving him back even further. With his balance compromised, Jean pressed his greatsword forward and sliced Rayne's ribs and bicep.

"Lorelei is my beloved sister. The only family I have left in this unforgiving world."

Rayne reeled against another immense strike. This one cut through the breastplate and straight across his abdomen. His feet wobbled backwards as Jean malevolently pressed on.

"And she will always need me to protect her!"

The paladin let out a gut-wrenching shout. His wrist lit up like a firework. Thankfully his hand was still attached but the blade it was carrying bounced harmlessly a few feet away.

Exhaustion had taken over. Rayne dropped to his knees. Blood seeped through several corners of his armor coating the silver surface is a sticky mess of crimson goo. Heavy breaths poured through his lips. Puffs of chilled air rose into the sky. His right arm wanted to desperately tuck in and put pressure on the bleeding wound cause by the single jab. The paladin relented by simply holding it out with his palm pointed towards the blood elf.

"Begging for mercy?" Jean hissed. "How uncouth. I am highly dismayed that I ever looked upon you with such admiration. Clearly you are not a man worthy of any accolades nor my continued attention. You shall not bring trouble upon my family anymore."

The paladin clutched his shield. In this position he may be able to block a few attacks but without a sword to assist, death was inevitable. He could only think to appeal to Jean's compassion. No one wanted to be responsible for the tears of another. If he had an ounce of mercy in his heart, it would be proven here.

"But…" Rayne panted. "Lorelei."

The blood elf grimaced upon hearing that name once more. His grip tightened upon the greatsword's hilt.

"She'll get over it."

* * *

 _Western Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Adrenaline shot through the warrior's veins. His muscles trembled with growing anticipation. Rage filled every fiber of his being. This incredible hot-blooded electricity was just what he needed. It reminded him of the constant struggle to survive and all of the hardships he needed to overcome. This intense rush gave him the necessary strength required to make it through every day. It only came out on rare occasions but when it did, nothing could stop him.

Marcus slowly picked himself off the ground. He carried his mace in one hand as easily as a noble held a fork. The warrior stepped up from his knees and took hold of the death knight's dropped weapon. They normally required two hands to wield properly. Marcus was just fine with one.

A slow and deep breath passed through his throat. The warrior poised himself and took a wide stance. He looked the tauren dead in his glowing blue eyes. A tremendous roar tore through the air. The walls quaked against the uncontrollable fury. Stone shivered and the surrounding Horde forces all turned their attention to the howling human warrior. Given his current state, none dared to cross his path let alone field of view.

The warrior charged forward. All of the thoughts of the outside world had been vanquished. The only one that remained was to return the death knight back to his former state.

* * *

 _Eastern Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Cannons exploded nearby. Their defenses must be getting serious. Even the catapults were starting to move out and onto the battlefield. He was running out of time. Weasel gently tapped his finger along his thigh in a rhythmic pattern. All of the turrets fired nearly in unison. Whether it was due to the reload speed or basic design didn't matter. As long as they were pointing outward and launching at a consistent pace, this plan would work.

The gnome began tying a long garrote to the ends of two throwing daggers. He eyed the distance between the two closest cannons and measured out the thin string accordingly. This was all about timing. One fraction of a second too late and this would be all for naught.

His concentration waned. Weasel was still reeling from the effects of the warlock's last attack. Cursesong had gotten the better of him and the lingering burning itch still begged for attention. One more just like that and he may not have to worry about pain anymore amongst other things like food, shelter, money, or breathing. Even now with death looming in his face, the gnome did not falter. Not when there was work to be done.

There was no way he was going to let the forsaken live after all of the atrocities he had committed. This was not about vengeance or glory. Weasel had been given a task by a very close and dear friend and he intended to see it through no matter what.

* * *

 _Wintergrasp Keep_

 _Wintergrasp_

Tensions mounted. The young elf's heart froze. She had watched Rayne and Jean battling below at nearly a stalemate. Seeing the paladin trading blows with her brother was not something she had ever desired but the fact that he was able to successfully defend against most of Jean's attacks was a feat to be admired.

However, the scene painted before her was anything but. Rayne was on his knees. His arm was up almost as if he were pleading with Jean. Lorelei was too far away to hear anything they were saying but she distinctly remembered one of them saying her name. Whatever they were discussing now involved her. She couldn't sit idly by and watch them destroy each other.

The young elf picked up her bow and nocked an arrow. Her heart quavered and nerves rattled. She had no idea what she was doing nor even what to aim for. All she knew was that Jean was about to kill the one man that could make her heart feel so terribly amazing. Lorelei did not want that feeling to end. She wanted to care for it, nurture it, and watch it grow until the end of her days.

This was no time to hesitate. Lorelei carefully aimed the arrow. Her hands shook as the sharp tip bounced from point to point between the two most important people in her life. The twitch in her eyes juggled a lone tear. She didn't want to see it end this way. She had hoped for a different outcome or a miracle to present itself. Life shouldn't be this hard.

Her grip on the string tightened. It was now or never. The young elf locked her eyes on the target. She shut her eyes and prayed that the arrow strike fast and true. Had Lorelei kept them open, she would have seen Rayne's wrist dropping ever so slightly.


	28. Chapter 27

_Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Jean passionately wailed as the burning rocket embedded in his chest furiously launched him backwards. The searing touch of the blazing torch almost overshadowed the incredible force of crashing into the jagged stone steps leading up to the vault. Thankfully his plate armor hadn't received much damage but it was more than enough to resonate an agonizing feeling throughout his entire being.

The blood elf slapped away the flare. Its green singe still marred his elegant breastplate along the outer edges of the point of impact. A black charred core forever blemished its pristine mithril hide. That paled in comparison to the insurmountable torment constantly screaming for relief. Whatever temperature that disgusting rocket was burning at was more than enough to leave a horrific mark on Jean's previously unscathed alabaster skin.

Torment continued to rip through his core. The stairs had welcomed him with open arms. Now they were imbued with a freshly carved crater. Cracks of stone debris slipped from the blood elf's body as he slowly pushed himself away from the disgusting visage of his humbling mistake.

Templar was cunning indeed. He still had a few tricks up his sleeve. That simple saying of unknown origins held a new meaning today. The paladin had lulled Jean into a false sense of security. Just when he thought victory was in his grasp, Templar pulled a desperation attack to sway the deck back in his favor. As much as he hated to admit it, the blood elf thought it was rather brilliant. However, it merely delayed the inevitable.

The force of the rocket must have been too intense for his retched adversary to handle. Templar was lying flat on his face a few feet away from where he once kneeled. It mattered not how or what had happened. The blood elf only desired one thing now. He didn't see Rayne's death as uncompassionate or cruel. They were soldiers on opposing sides. This outcome was foreseeable. Even a dreamer should be able to rationalize at least that much.

Jean walked slowly towards the fallen paladin. His body still ached. Pressing any faster would waste the valuable energy he needed in case Templar had another trick or two left. After this was done he could finally go home and be with the one person his heart belonged to. Lorelei would be sad. He was sure she would cry for ages but after a while her tears would dry and realize that he was right all along. This world could not be changed. Not by Jean and especially not by _him_. There was no escaping the cruel fate that awaited them.

This was the way it had to be. There was truly nothing more he could do.

* * *

 _Eastern Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Weasel charged at the madly grinning warlock. Both daggers were tightly held in each of his swaying hands. His little legs rushed ahead kicking past every bit of charred debris and mangled stone that their battle had caused. He didn't scream, shout, or let out more than a whisper beyond his rapidly exhaling breaths.

"Come back for more, eh? For such a small creature you are a glutton for punishment!"

Horrendous fel energy formed within the decaying hands of the forsaken. He wafted his arms in a circular patterned and quickly drew another menacing skull within the shell of the green flames. Cursesong's eyes widened. The maddening power he was channeling had reached its breaking point. This was the most powerful spell the warlock could conjure and a hungry target was rapidly approaching.

"Burn in hell!"

Ulrick unleashed his monumental bolt. The violent wave of fel magic roared through the air towards the speeding gnome. Its immense girth was nearly three times the gnome's own height. This worked out even better than he had originally hoped. Weasel discarded his cloak and took the fel blast head on.

The dreadful blast ignited in a torrent of chaotic fury. Cursesong erupted in a flood of revolting laughter. Green flames consumed every bit of matter in its wake. Not even a drop of blood was left standing. The forsaken couldn't take his eyes off the magnificent sight. It was too beautiful to look away from. Kills like these had to be cherished. Nothing could dissuade him from relishing in victory.

A puff of black smoke fizzled above the forsaken. He was still madly grinning over his previous work to even notice the gnome soaring overhead. The timing was just right. Weasel launched the daggers over Cursesong's repulsive head. They whizzed majestically through the air; each heading towards a manned turret on the eastern and western respectively.

Time slowed down to where single heartbeats lasted minutes. The silver blades approached the mouths of the cannons. Black dust bellowed as a grinning rocket exited the wide chamber. The daggers struck each projectiles hide embedding themselves deep within the shell but without piercing the hardened frame.

Light caught the warlock's attention. A shimmering line of hair floated just beyond his eyes. It hovered ever so graciously before disappearing into the wind. Terror immediately struck Ulrick's black heart. His hands lifted trying to catch the object. It gently wrapped its thin frame around his rotting throat. The string grew tighter and tighter. His eyes caught the thin line attached to separate rockets traveling in opposing directions.

The forsaken winced as the garrote straightened and sliced clean through his neck. He wasn't even allowed a proper cry before his untimely demise. The garrote continued to hold as the rockets pulled with their remaining velocity. They quickly ran out of fuel and bounced inches away from the cannons that gave birth to them. The following explosion decimated the turrets and the unfortunate soldiers that manned them. Many people are happy to get two birds with one stone. Few can proudly say they got three.

Ulrick's head casually fell from his shoulders and landed at the same time as the gnome. The look of utter disbelief was still carved upon his rotting face. For a moment, Weasel had considered keeping it as a souvenir. It would be a reminder of all of the terrible things horrible people were capable of and ensure he always stayed and a bright and true path.

Grey blood rushed underneath the gnome's boot. He didn't need a trophy of those that he killed. There was already the blood of hundreds on his hands. It didn't matter if he was a simpler murderer or a vile tyrant. The moment that you keep someone like that in your memory is the moment they truly begin to live forever.

The walls rattled from all sides. It snapped Weasel's attention to the task at hand. He darted towards the confines of the large crates on the southern side. The gnome dove forward and smashed the trigger with his thumb as the small wooden fortress embraced and shielded him.

Flame erupted from the workshop. Wind sadistically rushed from all sides as the building exploded into a heaping pile of shattered debris. Gears, cogs, and other metal bits shot into the air. A wave of devastation flooded the keep's interior. All of the catapults were crushed under its incredible wake.

"Woo hoo!" Cheered the gnome admiring his brilliant handiwork. "Take that you–"

Stone creaked behind him. The thick cracks in the walls had finally given way to the utter devastation that had befallen the structure and Weasel was standing just inches away from it. Once again, Rayne had outdone himself. He made such a potent explosive that it not only took out the workshop but even the surrounding walls. The gnome braced himself under the safe confines of the crates that had once shielded him and began thinking of ways to haunt the paladin.

Heavy clouds of dust poured from the ground. The walls crumbled and littered large chunks of stone all over the keep floors. Weasel continued to channel evil thoughts as death loomed closer and closer. However, the bright light that all those who have danced with death were familiar with never came.

The gnome slowly opened his eyes. A giant blue behemoth hissed before him. If he wasn't dead before, he was going to be. Kissing a siege engine wasn't on anyone's bucket list but it would be a memorable way to go out.

"Fun-size?"

Weasel knew that condescending voice anywhere. He darted his gaze upwards towards the silver-haired young woman in the gunner's seat.

"Zariyana?!"

"Brother," the priest smiled. "I found him."

"Oh really?" Samuel stated through the gritty receiver box. "Is everything alright?"

"He's currently impeding our path."

"You bastards," cursed Weasel. "What are you trying to do? Kill me?!"

"Heavens no," sighed the female twin.

"If we wanted to kill you," Samuel began.

"You'd already be dead," finished Zariyana.

Weasel was more annoyed than threatened.

"Just hurry up and go already. Rayne's on the other side of that wall and he probably needs our help. Bring it down and let's take this damned fortress!"

A slew of Horde soldiers rushed out from the inner section. This must be their final auxiliary defensive force. The gnome grinned as he pulled out his trusty black daggers. There was no rest for the weary. It was time to get back to work.

* * *

 _Western Workshop_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

The warrior spun both maces in a tornado of unrivaled rage. This storm of carnage was heading straight for the awaiting tauren. The death knight seemed unfazed by the approaching onslaught. He crossed both of his runic longblades and prepared to use his own strength to stop the furious charge of his angered opponent.

A mist of ice flowed through the blades. The tauren channeled his demonic power through the embedded runes and further enhanced their strength. Marcus continued his rapid and deadly approach. The death knight swung both weapons in unison towards the spinning weapons of the warrior. Air was nearly sucked from the mighty tauren's lungs but he did not falter. He would cut the weapons clean in half and then drive the runic blades through his adversary's still beating heart.

Shattered bits of metal began raining down on the surrounding area. The longblades had been reduced to the size of a child's dagger with none of the intimidating glow left flowing along the edges. His eyes widened as the maces came within inches of his own skull still moving at a terrifying velocity.

Marcus slammed on the brakes. His boots skid across the ground as he roared once more. The maces came to a quick stop behind his back before the gradually increasing in haste and power. With another rambunctious roar, the warrior hurled each weapon in opposing one-hundred and eighty degree arcs.

The steel heads clapped in the center. A mass of blood spewed forth from the flattened helm. The death knight collapsed onto the ground. His body twitched as warm blood still flowed from his veins. The quivering tauren was reduced to a chunk of furry meat. He had overestimated his own strength and didn't allow himself to believe for a second that he could be summarily devastated in such a humiliating fashion.

The warrior collapsed to a single knee. His own blood was still draining from the love taps graciously given by the death knight. He tossed aside his former opponents weapon. Despite being of similar construction and design, it just didn't feel right in his hands.

Puffs of cold air graced his lungs. Marcus had tired himself out with that last move. He wasn't sure what he was going to do had it not worked. However, thoughts like that are for rookies. There was no telling what was going to happen on the battlefield. It reminded him of something one of his first commanding officers had said. Never dwell on what could be. Only focus on what is and where you want to be.

The walls erupted on the western side. Crunching bits of stone began falling from the sky. The obliterating noise snapped the warrior back into focus. There was still one job left to do. The tauren had impeded his efforts but with that bumbling cow out of the way, he could finally start the show.

A wave of cloudy mist rushed over the warrior. The walls were in greater disarray than he original thought. Standing before him in the snowy landscape was a mighty siege engine. The steam-powered engineering vehicle of utter doom was truly a sight to behold. Standing in the gunner's seat, Marcus caught the glorious visage of a violet-haired elf.

"Marcus!"

"Hey Narula!" Grinned the warrior. "You're just in time. I was about to start the party without you."

"Are you alright?"

"Peachy," Marcus smiled. The blood caking all over his chest and thighs told a different story. "Could use a bath though."

"Where is Raymond?"

"Rayne?" The warrior quizzically replied.

His mind had been stuffed with rage in the last few moments that he forgot all about the blonde-haired bombshell that set him up on this glorified suicide mission. Nothing's been coming through the communication device since they landed. Whether the impact had rattled some of the internal wiring or they had lost their power couldn't be determined by anyone in this vicinity.

"He's on the other side of the wall. I'm not sure what's going on over there but we need to push, now!"

The night elf leapt from her seat. She graciously soared into the air. Her body began to twist and grow in the wind. Dense tufts of brown fur grew over the amethyst colored straps of leather armor. The night elf morphed into a snarling bear and pounced the nearby orc closing in on the warrior's location. A horrendous moan ripped through the green-skin's lungs as the druid smashed his body into the ground utilizing every pound of her half-ton weight to drive him down.

"Thanks –"

Marcus' sentiments were cut off as the bear barreled forward into the mass of Horde soldiers charging through the inner wall gate. She tackled three more to the ground nudging their bodies aside as if they were leaves in the wind. The bears speed rapidly increased. Her thick hide gradually reduced in size and color. Purple strands of fur replaced the previous amber-colored pelt. Razor sharp claws scraped away at the stony surface as she completed her shapeshifting into the lethal form of a puma.

Two more Horde soldiers were quickly disposed of. They each received a pair of speedily delivered swipes that cut through their plate armor like it was never there in the first place. A troll solider began preparing a spell to extinguish the charging cat but was greeted with Narula's clamping fangs across his neck. He viciously cried in agony. Precious material components spilt onto the ground in mid-cast. The delicate tendons in his neck became the druid's newest snack.

Flame erupted in a ball of massive destruction. The warrior winced while bracing for the inevitable painful impact. Narula exploded from the sky. She traveled high into the air. Brown feathers began shooting out of her body. A pair of mighty antlers grew from the top of her newly shifted form. The druid flapped her massive wings and graciously floated as her hefty form began channeling a ball of radiant nature energy within the claws of her moonkin hands. She cried through the hardened yellow beak and shot down a destructive blast of silver light onto the masses continuing to pour through the gate.

Bodies exploded in a violent wave. Horde soldiers started to rain from the sky. They were forcibly ejected from the ground they had once graced with their caustic presence. Not even gravity's undying grip could hold them.

The druid flapped her wings once more and flew upwards. The feathers grew dark and cold. They molted and became as black as the night. The added weight of the moonkin almost melted off in an instant. Her body shifted one final time into the grandiose form of a storm crow.

Narula casually soared over the battlefield. At this range she now had eyes over every corner of this fortress. The Horde defensive was being crumbled on all sides. Siege engines poured in on every wall slamming their decimating battering ram into the continually weakening structure. Rayne's brilliant stratagem may have been marred in controversy amongst his peers but no one could complain with the obviously positive results speaking here and now.

An overwhelming sense of dread filled the night elf's heart. She stared down upon the inner wall. The paladin was lying down face first. A small pool of blood drizzled from underneath his frame.


	29. Chapter 28

_Inner Wall_

 _Wintergrasp Fortress_

Dardosh's sinister smile shined brighter than any star and could be seen from the farthest corners of the galaxy. The ever boisterous blood elf had met his proverbial match. Though his opponent looked worse for wear as well, this golden opportunity was poised to return the orc's honor and grant him immense glory at the same time.

He feverishly ascended the nearby ladder. Every pump of blood steamrolling through his thick veins carried an extensive girth of soul-fueling adrenaline. Dardosh pushed himself to the second level of the inner wall and stomped towards the nearest turret. The Horde soldier piloting the cannon continued to deliver heaping helpings of destruction and the invaders.

"Give me that!"

The Vice-Commander smashed the back of his gauntlet into the soldier's unprotected face. Sticky crimson fluids spewed from the blast site. The soldier sheepishly grunted as he fell off the seat into a heaping pile of weakened flesh. Dardosh kicked his body away adding insult to devastating injury. He now had all of the room he needed to finish the battle and walk through the doors of Warsong hold as a celebrated hero.

Collateral damage be damned. This was war after all. There were no room for tears over spilled human or elven blood at an orcish table.

* * *

Nerves continued to cry out throughout the paladin's body. Injuries plagued his beaten frame in places that would require three mirrors to find. The cold embrace of the stone floor tickled the delicate fibers of his cheeks. Painful rings dulled out the sounds of heavy combat taking place just outside these walls.

Rayne slowly opened his eyes. A blaring red siren greeted him through the lens of his goggles. Jean was adamantly approaching. The greatsword dragged at his side skidding across the ground. Sparks of vicious light danced in its wake.

Death loomed ahead. This was no time to be lying down. The paladin pushed himself off the ground. Every fiber of his muscles began to wane. His energy was rapidly depleting as was the blood from each of the recently carved wounds.

The red sword was just inches away from his grip. Rayne crawled forward. For every breath he took, the blood elf drew closer. He wasn't sure how much of a resistance his body had left in it but there was no way he would simply lay down and give up. No amount of pain ripping through his body or thoughts could stop him from fighting until his last breath.

The paladin seized the hilt of the blade and took it into his desperate grip. He planted the sword into the ground and used it as a crutch to pull himself to his knees. Jean was within ten yards now. Rayne lifted himself up and prepared to take the final stand against the blood elf. His teeth clenched. A hearty breath pushed through the enamel barrier.

Horns blared within the goggles. The paladin shifted his attention to the northwest corner of the room. A glaring red outline painted in the distance. One of the Horde's own soldiers sat upon a cannon that was slowly turning to the center of the battlefield where Rayne and Jean had planned to finish their fight. One rocket may have meant little against the reinforced hide of a siege vehicle but it was more than enough to turn two soldiers into armored pudding.

A boisterous roar tore through the paladin's throat. He launched his shield into the air whizzing inches away from the blood elf's skull. It ripped through the freezing sky trailing a mass of spinning light as it raced ahead. The steel barrier struck the orc center mass in the chest. He fell from the rise in the inner wall howling in pain as he traveled. Rayne wasn't even afforded a breath of relief. The goggles began hounding him once more with a deadly warning.

 _Detonation Imminent!_

The orc was still able to get off a single shot. Thankfully its previous trajectory was a bit off from its intended landing area. Jean would be out of the immediate blast zone but unfortunately, the paladin was not nearly as lucky. The rocket exploded into a mass of flames and smoldering dust. Bits of shrapnel ripped into Rayne's chest and armor. The shattering force drove him to the ground and he collapsed on his side. Though the explosion was not direct, it still took a toll on the paladin's beaten and battered body.

Light radiated from the cloud's center mass. Jean barreled through the smoky explosion with his sword held on high. Trails of golden hammers and blades circled him in a tornado of vengeance. The scorned look on the blood elf's face carried the subtlest hint of delight. He had finally cornered the paladin in an unbeatable position.

Time slowed to a deadly crawl. Rayne pressed himself up to his knees. The sword was still firm in his grip. He mustered all of the strength left within him and launched the blade upwards. It traveled much slower than the descending greatsword. He was not going to make it in time to parry. Onward his sword lifted but could not match the speed of his opponent's. It was moving just past his chest. The paladin gritted and begged the light to aid him one last time as the blood elf's blade came blitzing downwards.

Metal furiously crunched. Jean let out a blood curdling roar. His stance shifted. The blood elf lunged awkwardly towards the paladin. Rayne's returning shield had struck him square in the spine. He hadn't even calculated for its arrival. It was his saving grace and yet, his own sword could not be stopped as his opponent fell forward.

The thick red blade impaled Jean's armored flesh. It exploded with two feet of crimson coated steel protruding out the back. Desperate gasps dripped through the blood elf's coarse throat. He frantically tried to drink in more air but none could make it passed the unanimous shock of the crippling blow.

"JEAN!"

Rayne ripped out his sword from the blood elf's chest and threw it away. He tossed aside the mechanized goggles clung to over his eyes as Jean collapsed in his arms. Warm fluids continually drained over the paladin's knees. The gaping wound staring back at him was over a foot long and nearly three fingers wide. Even at that great width he couldn't see past any of the blood funneling through every severed artery.

"Jean!"

The blood elf stared back in sheer amazement. His victory was all but settled but a fluke tactic had completely turned the tide of their battle. Rayne cursed into his conscious and clung onto Jean hoping to find a way to make this right.

Golden rays of light exploded from his eyes. The paladin's gauntlet was filled with the insurmountable energy swelling within his soul. He hovered his hand over the open wound. By the light's caring grace, Rayne would do whatever he could to save Jean's life.

A hand tightened over the paladin's wrist. Light began to dim in his hands. The blood elf still had enough life left within him to stop Rayne from taking any further action.

"There is nothing," coughed Jean. "You could do… To save me now."

"What are you talking about?!" Rayne snapped. "Just hang on, I can –"

The blood elf's grip tightened.

"My life is not the only thing I lost today."

Rayne locked onto Jean's dimming green eyes. His exasperated breaths almost matched those of the dying blood elf. The inner walls of the fortress came crumbling down. Immense chunks of broken stone and vibrant clouds of grey dust couldn't pull the paladin's attention away.

The overwhelming look of defeat on the blood elf's face told Rayne everything he needed to know. He could barely process what had happened just seconds earlier and now he had to cope with listening to the dying breaths of a fellow brother of the light.

Jean's eyes slowly closed. He choked out the blood filling his lungs. It dripped along the sides of his mouth. He took in one final breath to leave the paladin with his last words.

"Your world," he gasped, "I can finally see –"

"Jean!" Rayne frantically cried. JEAN!"

An aura of silence filled the air. The furious sounds of combat surrounding the paladin completely washed way. Jean Starstrider laid in his arms. His life was given in defense of this fortress. The grim fact that remained was Rayne was the one that ultimately took everything away from him.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

The paladin let out a fearsome shout as an arrow pierced his shoulder. The forceful impact of the thin projectile carried enough strength to push Rayne away from the blood elf's corpse. He rolled backwards and landed upon his knees. Rayne attempt to climb back to his feet as another arrow caught him in the thigh and kept him planted.

Looking forward confirmed his worst fears. Lorelei had leapt from the roof surrounding the vault doors. A third arrow was nocked and pointed right at his wrecked frame. The young elf let it rip. A shining silver bolt of steel traveled straight for Rayne's exposed skull. He didn't even have the energy nor the heart to protect himself.

The arrow snapped in mid-flight. It was crushed inches away from the paladin's face and dropped lifeless to the ground. Rayne's adrenaline was starting to subside. The numbness on his skin melted away. A glowing orb of faint light surrounded him.

"I told you it would work brother."

"Your hypothesis involved spells, not arrows sister," Samuel replied. "However, your timing was impeccable."

The paladin couldn't have been more thankful to the Legend twins for sparing him from the cold stench of looming death. Unfortunately, he could still not process anything other than the gruesome scene unfolding before him. Lorelei fell atop her brother's body. His freshly drawn blood stained her armor as she reached down to pull him into her. Tears rained down her bright red face. She pressed it against Jean's lifeless skull while horrifically wailing into the atmosphere.

Dust settled upon the battlefield. The paladin's conscious soon focused on the world around him. Templar soldiers pushed through the crumbled walls. Dozens of siege engines swarmed the inner section of the fortress. The Horde began retreating from their positions into the surrounding frozen landscape. Their leaders quickly amassed in a center. A lone blood elf magi began channeling a teleportation spell. Rayne did not desire to see any more bloodshed spilled upon this fortress. He would allow them to escape and live to fight another day.

A blue misty light washed over them. Lorelei still held the corpse of her dear brother in her arms. They slowly began fading from view. A flood of tears still washed down from her face. Puffy red cheeks surrounded her grim expression. She darted her piercing green eyes and stared at the paladin with vehemence and unadulterated rage. Her expression poured through every stagnant fiber of her crushed soul. Gone were the previous looks of innocence and adoration. Only malevolence remained.

"I'll kill you Rayne Templar."

They immediately vanished without a trace. The remainder of the Horde forces were quickly rounded up. Their weapons collided upon the ground signaling their surrender. The battle had finally ended. Wintergrasp now belonged to the Alliance.

Cheers erupted within the fortress. The Templar army along with the combined might of the Alliance soldiers celebrated their overwhelming victory on this frigid morning. Their ubiquitous praise filled with hot-blooded joy brought warmth to their hearts though it did nothing to placate the growing void swelling within the paladin.

"Looks like you've got a few badges of courage kid," teased Marcus. "Let's get you on your feet."

The warrior carefully slid himself under Rayne's left arm and gently lifted him up. Samuel quickly dove in as well and helped the paladin from the opposing side.

"You are greatly wounded Rayne," the priest replied. "We should remedy these abrasions quickly before further exposing yourself to infection."

The paladin could hardly open his eyes. All of the pain shooting through his nerves forced him to tighten and tense to deal with the oncoming onslaught of torment. His greaves found solid footing but still allowed his companions to carry his hefty mass. Rayne knew he looked horrendous. All of the blood coating his flesh and armor were still sticky to the touch and probably making a mess of his companions clothing.

"Raymond."

The gently voice of his beloved called out to him. It would normally send his heart into a place of bliss. However, nothing could break the barrier of disgrace enveloping his emotions. They may have achieved victory today but the cost was far too great to allow himself to celebrate. There was a great disturbance afflicting his thoughts. Someone still had to answer for their terrible act that caused this terrifying ending.

Rayne slowly opened his eyes. His resolve immediately steeled as he locked them on a vicious orc being carted towards the center along with the rest of his surrounding troops. Blood boiled within his veins. A quick surge of adrenaline exploded throughout his body.

The paladin pushed himself always from his companions. He snapped off the two arrows still embedded within his flesh. The ongoing discomfort of the wounds he had suffered had completely lifted as he marched towards the green-skinned fiend that was the cause of his growing mental torment.

"Stop right there," Rayne called.

He ordered to soldiers to release the prisoner they were carting and stood face to face with the monster. Anger coated every fiber of his expression. His eyes filled with blood.

"Why?" The paladin began. "Why did you shoot at me and your Commander? Why were you trying to kill him with me?"

"Pssh," the orc spat. "Go to hell."

An armored boot embedded themselves into the orc's crotch. He doubled over shouting in utter anguish at the newfound terrifying pain riddling his body. As he dropped, an armored knee rocketed upwards and caught him on the chin. The orc reeled backwards landing square on his backside and pressed up against the adjacent wall near the vault entrance.

"Why?!"

Rayne's shouts were filled with poison. His eyes did not leave the fallen orc's body.

"What do you care?" The orc coughed. "You already –"

A hardened slap ripped across his face. Every edge of the back of the paladin's gauntlet tore through his green flesh and spat thin whips of blood onto the wall.

"Why?!"

The fury growing within the paladin caused the fortress to itch into utter silence.

"Alright," the orc spat. "I'll –"

Another slap crushed the opposing side of his face. More blood tore into the air. The newly carved gashes stained the green-skin's beaten face.

"Why?!"

"I'll tell you," he begged, "Stop –"

Another massive smack crushed against his jaw. Teeth tore into the air as they were forcibly shredded from their previously safe confines.

"WHY?!"

"Enough –"

A fourth crushing blow struck the orc's jaw. This time the paladin closed his fist and delivered a hammer of raw justice into the softened green flesh.

"WHY?!"

"Please, don't –"

Rayne lifted his hand once more. Light swelled within its closed grip. He commanded the powerful force to aid him in this blow.

"RAYMOND!"

A pair of slender hands wrapped around the paladin's raised arm. He turned and faced the night elf desperately pleading with him. The delicate look of her soft silver eyes begged him to stop without having to utter a single word. Rayne saw through her gaze and noticed buried deep within was a small but noticeable amount of fear. He had never wanted to bring that thought or feeling to her tender heart and in an instant of losing himself, the paladin had become everything he thought he could never be.

Rayne lowered his hand. He looked down upon both of them and found orcish blood still freshly dripping from the steel plates. They began trembling as the realization of his actions soon set in. The paladin had lost all of the control he had trained for years to master. He was supposed to be a guiding light upon this world, not a blade of vengeance. Everything he had ever strive for, everything he had worked hard to build, everything that he desperately clung to had been destroyed in this hellish place. There was nothing left for him here but the painful memory of this atrocious battle.

The paladin slowly walked away from the scene. He couldn't bare the look at Narula's expression any longer let alone the orc's devastated face. This has been a dreadful day to say the least. Rayne was tired and dirty. His only wish was the solace of isolation and peace away from this horrific place.

Trumpets ignited in the distance. The surrounding soldiers quickly gazed upon the approaching sound. Murmurs within the crowd stayed relatively low but still in complete awe. Most of these men had not been privileged enough to stand in _his_ presence.

A squad of griffons quickly touched down. Their regal barding featured the powerful blue and gold colors of the Alliance. Leading the group, a heavily armored warrior approached. His ruffled brown hair and wide scar across his nose were amongst the most distinct features. Each spaulder had been respectively smithed in the shape of a majestic lion and powerful hawk. The dark grey and gold plates of his armor gentle clapped together which each step as he approached the surrounding soldiers. They quickly formed ranks and saluted the highest ranking member of the Alliance on his way towards the vault doors.

Rayne caught eyes with the approaching warrior. He slowly took a knee. It pained him to do so but there was still a bit of adrenaline floating through his veins to ease the descent. The rest of the Templar Knights followed suit.

"Your majesty," the paladin spoke.

"Rise Raymond Templar," the King stated.

He did as he was asked. The paladin did not utter a single word.

"You've done well on this day. I asked for you to take their fortress and you have accomplished that and more. We have dealt a crushing blow to the Horde and now the Vault of Archavon and all of its treasures will be ours for the taking. We are in your debt," said Varian.

"Thank you your majesty," Rayne replied with a small nod.

The King formed a tiny smirk on the corners of his lips.

"I have clearly misjudged you. Your efforts here will be forever etched into the echoes of history."

Those bold words held a different meaning to the paladin than it did his King. His willpower sought fit to keep his emotions in check while being honored in such a glorious fashion.

Varian extended his hand and placed it firmly upon the paladin's shoulder.

"You have a promising future. We could use more men like you and your guild as we push further into Northrend. When the need arises for heroes to be called, I will be sure to keep you in mind, _Champion of Wintergrasp_."

The crowd of soldiers slowly began clapping. Quick outbursts followed by full-fledged cheers roared amongst the troops. They began to shout the title that had been honorably given to the paladin.

"Now then, go and rest heroes. You have at least earned that much."

"Thank you your majesty," Rayne said once again.

The King looked down upon the paladin. He firmly nodded while boldly declaring their faction's salute.

"For the Alliance."

Time slowed to a crawl. The paladin started pouring through all of the intricate moments that led him to this grave state. All of the blood, sweat, and tears that had been sacrificed paved the way for the Templar heir to receive such an incredible honor. However, the cost was still far too great for him to ever hold himself in such high regard as the King has bestowed upon him.

Varian was right. This day will not be soon forgotten, least of all by Rayne himself. He learned a valuable lesson about war, people, and most of all, trust. He may serve the light but his heart will always lie with that of his family and his home. There were many things still to discuss but that would have to wait. Today was reserved for his companions and the soldiers that carried his namesake's banner proudly into battle.

Rayne lifted his bloody gauntlet and proudly saluted his King.

"For the Alliance."

* * *

 _The Raynewood Orphanage_

 _Ashenvale_

The glorious moon shined above this lush land. Midnight had slowly crept in. Air always tasted fresher in Kalimdor. The world just seemed more peaceful around these parts. Narula loved nothing more than to spend her days under the brilliant silver light above. If only the rest of Azeroth's inhabitants were as easily appeased with the small joys in life.

Rayne was casually sitting under a nearby tree. Bandages wrapped around his unarmored body. She had offered to let him stay with her so she could tend to his injuries and allow him the opportunity to take some much needed rest. Samuel did an excellent job patching up most of the damage to his extremities but the night elf was more concerned with his mental wounds than physical.

On the way over to the orphanage, they had done a lot of talking. Rayne explained everything to her: the trip to the Eastern Plaguelands, meeting Lorelei, traveling to Silvermoon, and even the altercation in Dalaran. Of course, he apologized profusely for it all. It wasn't in his nature to hide things but he explained his confusion about the entire matter which led to a snowball of misunderstanding. It was hard for her to listen to some parts of it but she graciously allowed him to get everything off of his chest. Keeping one's feelings continually bottled up inside would do more harm than good. It can eat away at one's own soul devouring every little fragment until there is nothing left. That was the last thing she desired to see from her oldest and dearest friend.

Narula casually took a seat next to the paladin. She sat close but still kept a bit of distance between them. Rayne hadn't said much in the last hour or so after they finished putting all of the children to sleep and cleaning up after the meal. He just sat in silence under the tree. They had already talked so much this evening, she would be surprised if he still had anything left to say.

"You know something," Rayne began looking up towards the sky. "Today was a pretty good day."

The night elf caught a small smile forming from the corner of her eyes.

"I never met King Varian before. All of the stories I had heard made him seem very stern and imposing. I'm glad to see a side of him that goes against the rumors. It makes me feel better being under his leadership."

Narula continued to sneak glances upon him. The paladin let his eyes drift to the stars above.

"I'm sure my father will be happy to hear the news as well. He knew above everyone else that I would succeed. I feel bad for tricking him all this time but I'm sure he's forgotten about it and I know I've made him proud."

The words flowing through his tired lips were soon littered with morose.

"I can't believe what an overwhelming success the mission was. I mean, so many things could have gone wrong or even worse but we managed to pull it off, right?"

"Raymond."

The paladin's voice began to crack. Air funneled into his lungs erratically.

"Right Narula?"

She didn't offer any words. Nothing she could say could pull him out of this.

"I guess it's not entirely true. It's like Marcus said: _this is war_ , remember? If we didn't kill them, they were going to kill us… Right Narula?"

The night elf remained firm and kept silent. He was not looking for an answer. He was still searching for it himself.

"I had to do it, didn't I? Even if it was an accident, that look in his eyes told me if I didn't, he would have."

Rayne stopped for a moment. His head sulked and eyes wandered to the cold ground below.

"That look…"

Rapid breath pumped into his lungs. He could hardly keep his composure but continually sought after it.

"No one has ever looked at me like that before. No one has ever told me they hated me either."

The paladin choked down another painful breath.

"Not like that anyways."

A single drop fell from his eye. It casually traveled along the curves of his face before quietly resting upon his chin.

"I only wanted to help people. I never wanted to bring anyone pain. And now," he stuttered. "I've killed someone. And I almost did it again. I let my anger take hold and –"

Tears streamed down the paladin's face. He clutched the shoulders of the night elf and buried his head atop her chest.

"He's dead. He's really dead. And it's all my fault."

Lightning struck the night elf's heart. The paladin was breaking down before her very eyes. She desperately wanted to reach out to him but found nothing that allowed her to.

"Now I've," he choked past the flood of tears pouring down his face. "Now she."

He continued to wince over the painful memories swimming within his thoughts. The chipper expression he carried just moments ago was buried within a well of eternal sorrow and remorse.

"What have I done?" Sobbed Rayne

He couldn't hold back any longer. The man she once knew had crumbled.

"What am I going to do now?!"

Narula wrapped her arms across his back and pulled him in tightly. She allowed him to drain his emotions atop her. He trembled in her soothing grip. The night elf had only seen him succumb to such pain only once before. It was a tragedy that destroyed a kingdom and nearly his dream in one foul swoop.

He continued crying into her arms. Here they sat brimming with sorrow and there was nothing she could say or do to bring him back to the person he used to be. Azeroth had broken the finest man Narula had ever cared for and there wasn't anything she could do to change that. Drawing him in may take away all of his sadness but the night elf couldn't do any more than be a shoulder for him to dry his tears. She promised to always protect him and yet, the night elf was powerless to do anything but hold the paladin as his strenuous sobs continued underneath the pale moonlight.

 **End of Act III**


	30. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

 _Forlorn Woods_

 _Crystalsong Forest_

The young elf dragged herself across the dense snowy land. Emerald followed closely behind. Her body was cold and tired. Neither of them had eaten in days. Tears stained her cheeks as she pressed on northbound towards the mountains. Only dead trees stood in her path. It was a grave reminder of what she had and what she had lost.

Jean's decade of loyal service and command were only worth a sack of coins to the Horde. A small pittance in comparison to all of the work he had done throughout his life. They didn't even offer him a proper funeral. Those bastards said resources were tight and couldn't afford to give one of their finest servants the honor of even a decent burial.

No one provided her any sympathy. She was all alone in this world. All she had left were their belongings back in Silvermoon but it wasn't like she'd be able to stay for long. There was nothing left for her there. Jean did everything for them. He sacrificed his life so that she would never have to suffer ever again. All that awaited her upon her return was a few words of remorse followed by a hasty eviction. Lorelei couldn't exactly take his place as a Ranger-Colonel; not that she would ever want to anyways.

There was no life for her back in Quel'Thalas. There was nothing left for her here nor anywhere. She was now all alone in this crazy world of her. Jean's final parting words to her had painfully started to make sense. The young elf never wanted to live without him by her side. She merely only wanted more than what she deserved. Just like a spoiled child.

 _Give in to your fear..._

A voice dug into her mind. It was cold and cruel like the words of a demon or even sentiments of a loved one. Lorelei had allowed herself to get swept up in the needless ramblings of a world she should have never known. Jean had patiently tried to explain it to her. After all of this time, she never gave him the benefit of the doubt.

 _They have turned against you... Now, take your revenge..._

Something was calling out to her. Now she was certain. The young elf stopped and looked around. Whatever it was, they were absolutely right. It was all _his_ fault. This was _his_ mess; _his_ undoing. He swayed her with his sickening charms and forced her to drop her guard. Through cunning manipulation and uncanny resistance, he allowed her to forget about that which she truly loved most in this world and got caught up in foolish sentiments.

Anger exploded within her mind. That disgusting face of his could not be simply forgotten. No, he would not be allowed to get off so easily. If her brother had to be murdered in such a cold and callous manner than the least she could do was offer him a similar fate.

 _Kill them all... Before they kill you..._

Yes. The voice was right. But the young elf knew she couldn't do it alone. She needed more strength; more power to fight the bastard that ruined her life. Lorelei cried out to the voice in her mind. She begged it to beseech her with the unrivaled strength to destroy the man that has caused her so much pain and torment. She would sell her soul a thousand times over and it would still be worth the cost.

The young elf ventured north along an open path. It was there that the voice grew louder and louder. Whatever was calling to her now must have the power she so desperately sought. Let the rest of the world be damned. Lorelei Starstrider vowed to live up to her word no matter how many others burned along the path.

Rage had blinded her completely. She couldn't hear a soft delicate whisper underneath all of the violence clouding her mind. It was faint but made its presence known. The madness had started to grow.

 _There is a little lamb lost in dark woods._


End file.
